GI Joe: America's Special Mission Force Reboot
by Opie Lives
Summary: This is a rewrite of my earlier story. It's an attempt to put G.I. Joe in a more realistic world.  Disclaimer: I not own G.I. Joe. You not sue me.
1. Chapter 1

**G.I. Joe: America's Special Mission Force** Prologue

Berlin, Germany June 26, 2006

The celebration of the International Day in Support of Victims of Torture was held at the French Embassy. Ambassadors from most of the embassies in town were there with their families. Also present were a small contingent from the U.S. State Department, German government and guests from the Berlin Centre for the Treatment of Torture Victims.

"My dear Anastasia," Ambassador Manuel Desosa said; as he walked up to the striking woman standing alone in the garden. "Has our company become too dull for you?"

She slowly turned, brushing a lone strand of raven black hair from her blue eyes. "Not at all, Manuel." She said, smiling at the Spanish ambassador. "I just needed some fresh air."

"These little get togethers do tend to get stuffy. How is Ambassador De Cobray? I haven't had the opportunity to speak with him yet."

"My father is fine. We were both sorry to hear about your wife."

"Thank you my dear. She really enjoyed your visit that final week."

"Really that was my pleasure." Anastasia De Cobray smiled. "And I needed to administer the final dose of poison to her."

"Excuse me? I must have misheard you." Manuel drunkenly said as a confused look spread across his face.

"No you heard me perfectly, Manuel." Her smile turned sinister as she leaned closer to him. "I'm afraid she was being much to successful at raising funds to help a certain African Nation. One that an organization I'm interested in joining needs to remain in it's current state."

Shock overtook the confusion on his face. He sputtered, trying to process this.

"It's okay, Manuel." She said sweetly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You'll be joining her soon."

She thrust the dagger between his ribs and covered his lips with hers as he started to scream. Slowly she lowered him to the ground.

"I must say, this has been a very enjoyable interlude." She whispered as life began to leave his eyes. "But I'm afraid I need to leave, before the bomb goes off. Don't worry about me. This is my final entrance test. Your dear wife helped me to impress the right people."

She stood and pulled her coat tightly around her. Whistling, she calmly walked around the embassy. A car pulled up as she smiled at a young guard at the gate.

The chauffeur walked around and opened the door for her. As she slid in she allowed her dress to ride up, showing a generous portion of leg to the young guard. She winked as the chauffeur shut the door, blocking out the deep red the guards face had turned.

The guard was still telling the story to his older partner five minutes later. It was the last thought he had as the explosion tore through the embassy.

Paris, France March 18, 2009

Corail 3447 had just left Paris on the Centre Line and was heading towards Orleans at ninety miles an hour. Six cars back in second class seating, the quiet man wearing a New York Yankees baseball cap sat observing everything around him. As the train reached it's top speed of just under a hundred, he stood up and walked to the back of the car.

The noise of the train intensified as he walked between cars, casually strolling through the next two cars to reach the sealed doors. He took a moment to appreciate the view of the city speeding away, before taking a length of cable from his blue jacket and securing the inner door. A Leatherman multi-tool was produced next as he quickly cut the alarm to the outside doors. He quickly opened the emergency panel on the door and, checking to make sure that nobody in the sparsely populated car was paying attention, hit the manual release.

Swinging up to the roof of the car, he turned and pushed the doors closed; hoping that the quick roar from the outside hadn't drawn attention to quickly. On his stomach he turned and caught his balance, before slowly rising to his knees. The cap blew from his head, revealing his short dark hair as he willed himself steady. In a crouch he rose to his feet and started running, leaping over the connections between cars.

He came to a stop at the second car and went prone, hugging the roof. The man scooted to one side and stuck his head over, peering into the first class carriage. Silently cursing when he saw he was too late.

Four men in dark gray suits with crimson red ties held FN P90 submachine guns on the passengers. The passengers had all been herded to the back of the car and were huddling together. He checked to see the condition of the probable target, a chemist from the Pierre and Marie Curie University. The scientist had been separated from the others and was seated not far from the gunmen.

He crawled to a spot directly over them, then moved to the windows. He set the det cord around the window and attached the fuse. Crawling away, he attached the fuse to the detonator. He lay as flat as possible and covered one ear with his right hand and pushed his head into his shoulder to cover the other. He hit the detonator and less then a second later an explosion roared to his right, the vibrations nearly shaking him off the train.

Seconds later he was through the opening where the window had been, his SIG-Sauer P228 pistol drawn. He put two 9mm rounds through the head of one of the gunmen and three more into the chest of another. Then he closed with the other two, throwing an elbow into the throat of one and blocking a head kick from the last. The man he elbowed fell to the ground gasping, his windpipe crushed. The last man threw a straight punch at the others head and it was blocked and countered with a palm strike to his solar plexus.

As the gunman doubled over, the man grabbed him from behind and quickly snapped his neck. The sound of applause caused him to turn as the passengers started running through the doors to the next car.

"Well done, brother." The Japanese man in white and gray said, standing with his arms crossed. He stood about 5'8" and wore loose white and gray camouflage pants tucked into gray boots and a tight white shirt. Two ninja-to were strapped to his back and his head was covered by a white hood and gray lower face mask.

The other man just stood there, letting nothing show on his face. He was four or five inches taller than the other, dressed in cargo pants, a black tee-shirt and blue jacket. His blues eyes glared from his plain face as he regarded the intruder.

"I don't supposed you'd consider giving me Doctor Fournier and letting us go on our way?"

"Interesting outfit, Tommy." The man said quietly, barely audible over the air rushing through the window. "What's with the swords?"

"You'd be surprised how useful they are. And it's Storm Shadow; I am working after all." Storm Shadow stepped forward. "You don't have a chance, Snake Eyes. You can't take me. And even if you could, we have control of the engine. Why don't you..."

Storm charged forward as he spoke. Snake Eyes raised his gun, firing two quick shots. Storm Shadow ducked underneath the rounds and closed, twisting his head out of the way as Snake tossed his gun at it.

The next minute was a rapid exchange of fists, elbows, knees and feet; neither man landing a blow. They fought at such speed that their blows seemed a blur to the frightened scientist. Storm managed to land a kick that drove Snake back, then charged. Snake Eyes moved to the side and used Storm Shadow's momentum to shove him hard into the side of the car.

Doctor Fournier started backing away and was grabbed from behind. The gunman that had been shot in the chest pulled the chemist toward the engine, the bullet holes in his shirt revealing body armor.

Storm Shadow recovered and turned quickly, a double edged knife in his hand. He lunged at Snake Eyes, who stepped back; barely dodging the slashing blade. Snake Eyes pulled off his jacket, holding it in his left hand. As Storm lunged again, he used the jacket as a whip. It wrapped around Storm's knife hand long enough for Snake to charge, going shoulder to shoulder with Storm. His momentum knocked the knife loose but Storm quickly countered with a leg trip that took them both to the ground.

The rolled on the ground, launching strike after strike; neither man gaining an advantage. They came apart and reached their feet at the same time. Storm, crouched in a defensive stance and Snake Eyes staring into the barrels of two P90 Submachine guns held by two more men in gray suits.

"If you're done playing Storm Shadow," a voice called from the connection. "We have what we're after and we're ready to disconnect from the train."

"This was fun, brother. I doubt we'll do it again." Storm turned and walked between the two gunmen as they opened fire. Snake Eyes dove behind the seats, as the two men ran toward the engine.

He jumped to his feet and ran forward. An explosion erupted from the connection driving him back. He could feel the car and engine separating as he regained his feet, ignoring the ringing in his ears. Snake went forward again, seeing the engine pulling away. He started to lunge through when he saw the bomb, much bigger than the one used to separate. He ran toward the back, making it to the second car and seeing that people had been smart enough to move to the rear of the train.

Snake continued running as the bomb went off, sending flame and force through the cabins. He was going through the doors to the next car when the blast reached him, throwing him forward. His head hit the luggage rack as he fell, blackness overtaking him. The first car came loose from the track, going sideways and causing a domino effect that turned the train into a twisted, burning wreckage.

Notes: This is a rewrite of America's Special Mission Force. Well it started as a rewrite but is actually a completely different story. Though I will steal a few things from the original. A good example of that is the Baroness intro. I thought it was a good way to show her vicious side and to make it nearly impossible to make her into a victim or sentimental character; which sadly every writer in the comics seems to want to do. I won't even go into what they did to her in the movie.

Warning: I am not a ninja fan. Especially since they ruined the original comic. Well ninjas and the horrible toy ideas that Marvel was forced to use. That being said, I can't guarantee that any characters in this story will be honest to goodness ninjas. If I do decide they are then don't expect the super human ninjas from comics or movies. They'll be the historically accurate kind. Good at infiltration, assassination and espionage. Not capable of taking on a hundred people in a hand to hand fight.


	2. Chapter 2

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force **Chapter 1

May 17, 2010 The Russian Republic of Dagestan, Near the border with Chechnya

The MH-60K Blackhawk flew hugging the terrain, staying well below Russian radar. It floated down toward a flat section of the hilly countryside. Doors on each side of the helicopter were thrown open as it hovered inches off the ground.

Sergeant Conrad "Duke" Hauser was the first one out. The tall blond had barely touched the ground before Captain Lonzo Wilkinson was out the other side. They both ran and took guard positions as four more men exited and the helicopter flew off. Hauser and Wilkinson checked their location and headed northwest.

Corporal Robert Graves took the lead. He was of average height and stocky with brown hair beneath his Kevlar helmet. Graves carried an M4 carbine and a Mossberg 590 twelve gauge shotgun. He was the non-specialist of the group; skilled in a little bit of everything. Everyone on the team called him "Grunt" because of that.

Captain Wilkinson, the field leader of Task Force J came next. The tall black man carried an M4 with a M203 grenade launcher attached. He moved like a big cat, stalking after Graves.

Sergeant Rafael Melendez was next. The tall, thin Peurto Rican from New York was the teams heavy weapons and demolitions expert. He carried an M249 SAW and M72A7 LAW. Called Zap by his friends, he had served with Hauser in the Special Forces before joining this team.

Corporal Alvin Kibbey, the radio operator came next. He was of average size with brown hair and a five o'clock shadow. He carried an M4 and the AN/PSC-5 Shadowfire radio.

Next was Sergeant James Barney, the engineer and assistant demolitions man. He was short and stocky with thinning brown hair. Grand Slam, as he was called, carried an M4 and two M72A7 light anti-tank weapons.

Sergeant Hauser came last. The thirty-eight year old had been in the Army since he graduated high school. First in the 82cd Airborne, then the Special Forces and finally Task Force J. He carried an M4 with an M203 grenade launcher.

They held a steady pace about seven miles before coming to a halt about a half mile from a well lit compound. Wilkinson called them into a huddle before going over the operation one last time.

"I'm sure you remember the briefing so I'll be quick." Wilkinson said in a low voice." American doctor Adele Burkhart has been running a medical aid station here with some others from Doctors Without Borders. Two weeks ago, Chechen insurgents took the station and have held the doctors and patients hostage. The Russians have so far refused to negotiate or intervene. The hostages are being held in the large building on the south side. Intel has twelve to sixteen insurgents inside."

"Zap, Barney and Kibbey will provide the diversion. You'll attack the north side at 0330. Duke and Graves are with me. We'll slip into camp and get the hostages during the attack. We meet at extraction B unless we meet heavy resistance. Then we shake off pursuit and meet at extraction D. Any questions?"

Lonzo looked around at the steady faces that surrounded him. "No? Let's get going then, we have three hours to set up."

Doctor Adele Burkhart glared at the two men with AK-47s as she re-bandaged the face of the young man in front of her. Around her the two surviving doctors, five volunteers and three patients sat huddled in a corner. At least they had stopped shaking, she thought. Proving that people can adjust to anything, including two weeks of constant terror.

She and her aide Peter had just finished stitching the foot of a twelve year old girl when the first explosion hit them. Gunfire was soon overpowered by screams as twenty men charged the camp. Peter had picked up the girl and pulled the doctor to cover when another explosion hit, throwing them to the ground. She grabbed the girl and started to run as Peter pulled himself to his feet. He was beside her in an instant, then pushed her and the girl to the ground as another explosion happened beside him. It ignited a barrel of kerosene and splashed the burning liquid into his face.

Doctor Burkhart still remembered the silent screams as she threw her jacket over him to put out the fire. They were quickly surrounded by men with guns and she could only watch helplessly as people around her were killed. The gunmen had put them all inside the operating tent, though only three of the four young doctors and half of the volunteers were there. Seven patients had been placed with them originally, but two had died from wounds and two girls had been dragged off. Now only two old women and the twelve year old girl were left. Though they had tried to take that girl also, but the doctor had fought them. The leader of the gunmen had stepped in, saying she was too valuable to be hurt; yet.

Peter had only regained consciousness two days ago as the few pain killers she had been able to secure for him had run out. He handled it stoically and barely showed any sign of the pain he was in. She still remembered a year ago, when she had first met him. Her colleague, Doctor Maria Tai had introduced him. He was slightly over six feet tall with a medium build and dark hair.

"We call him Peter," Doctor Tai, a seventy year old French-Vietnamese woman, had said. "He was one of the survivors of the train crash outside of Paris last month. His injuries seemed minor at first, but apparently he suffered retrograde amnesia. He remembers nothing before waking up in the hospital. He's also lost the ability to speak, but I have not been able to find a physical reason for it. I believe he is the perfect candidate for this brain wave scanner that Doctor Monev and yourself have created."

And he would have been the perfect candidate. Except his memory was a complete blank. And more frustrating, her friend in the FBI had been unable to identify him. Even though she was certain he was an American. Finally she had to put a stop to the experiment. Archibald had become obsessed over the patient, which was one of the drawbacks of working with the brilliant psychiatrist Archibald Monev.

So she had taken "Peter" with her to Dagestan, where he had proven to be a tremendous help. While his memory was gone, he retained an impressive set of skills; including first aid and a knowledge of healing. He also understood a little Russian and quickly learned ASL, so he acted as her translator. And bodyguard, as he had quickly taken down a male patient who had tried to rob their morphine supply. Other than that one incident he was completely peaceful. He seemed to want to help, as if he had to atone for something he didn't remember.

Wilkinson, Graves and Hauser had made it to the large operating tent; after taking out two guards. Hauser made a small cut in the tent and slid a tubular lens through. He peered through and pointed to his left, holding up three fingers. Then he pointed right and held up two. Wilkinson and Graves moved to the right as Hauser took a spot to wait for the distraction.

Alvin Kibbey had attached a night vision sight to his M4 and taken the drag position, covering his two teammates as they crept forward. Zap and Grandslam had spread apart, heading to opposite sides of the compound. They took kneeling positions and extended their M72 LAWs. Zap and Grandslam fired into a truck parked by the tent used as sleeping quarters, the front end of the truck exploding and sending burning shrapnel into the tent. Grandslam threw down the LAW and grabbed his second one as Zap went prone and started firing with his squad automatic weapon. He picked off two sentry's as Grandslam sent another 66mm rocket into a pile of fuel barrels.

Three men ran from the hostage tent as Duke and Grunt cut their way inside. Quick shots took down the two guards as Lonzo checked the hostages.

"It's okay," he said reassuringly. "We've come to get you out of here."

Everything's working to plan, Kibbey thought as he prepared to cover the other's retreat. The sound of a helicopter overhead quickly killed those thoughts.

Zap stopped firing as the low flying helicopter swooped down. The Russian Kamov Ka-60 dropped and twelve soldiers jumped out, eight heading into the camp and four turning towards Zap and Grandslam's positions.

Spetsnaz, Kibbey thought as one of the men spoke.

"American's, we know yo are here. Lay down your guns and come forward."

Grandslam placed his M4 on the ground and stood up. The lead soldier waved him forward.

Zap started to stand as another soldier fired his AN-94 assault rifle, mowing Grandslam down. Kibbey and Zap opened fire at the same time. Two of the Russians fell as the other two retreated. Zap threw a grenade and ran as it went off, with Kibbey firing to cover him. As he almost reached Kibbey, he felt fire spread through his legs.

Kibbey saw the last Russian fire and Zap go down. He carefully aimed and fired four rounds into the Russian. Quickly reloading he ran forward and grabbed Zap into a fireman's carry, running for all he was worth away from the compound.

"Sounds like the fights ending," Grunt said as the gunfire settled.

"That's our cue to get out of here." Wilkinson said. "Can everyone travel?"

"I believe so," Doctor Burkhart said.

"Good, we don't have much time..." Wilkinson stuttered as Russian soldiers swarmed through the opening and the holes in the tent.

"Captain Wilkinson, if you and your men would lay down your weapons." One of the six men surrounding them said. "I am Major Brekhov of the Guardians of the Fatherland. You are to be taken into custody for acts of terror on Russian soil."

"Terror? We are here to rescue hostages."

"We know why you are here Captain. Your President informed our President of your rogue unit. If only we had made it in time to save the hostages."

"We are saved!" Doctor Burkhart screamed in frustration.

"Calm down," Duke said. "I think the Major means none of us made it out of here." He gave her a calming glance and noticed the bandaged man next to her tensing up.

"Perhaps some of you may make it to Siberia. After your trial is released to all the media outlets."

"Embarrassing the U.S. and forcing us to rethink placing ballistic missiles in Poland."

"Very astute, Captain. But that part is out of my hands. Unfortunately I was told that only two of you were to survive."

Two of the Russians raised their AN-94 rifles and aimed at Graves. "Peter" reacted instantly. He flung a scalpel into the throat of one as he leaped at the other. He pulled a knife from the soldiers belt as he slammed his palm into the Russians nose, jabbing the cartilage into his brain. He was amongst two others as Duke and Wilkinson drew their MK-23 pistols. Wilkinson took down a soldier as Duke fired two rounds into Brekhov's chest. The two other Russians were down as Brekhov hit the floor.

"Buddy I don't know who you are," Wilkinson said, "but thanks. And wow."

"Peter, are you okay?" Doctor Burkhart asked as he gave her a thumbs up.

"Grunt, check the exit." Wilkinson said. "Everyone else needs to get ready to move."

Graves stuck his head outside and saw nothing, he waved the others on as he stepped outside. Duke was next through the tent. Graves brought his M4 up as another Russian stepped out of cover. He fired, sending 5.56mm bullets into the Russian. Then he felt something crash into his chest.

Duke dove as gunfire erupted and Graves went down. He searched for the shooter as he heard another M4 fire.

"Sir, that was the last one out here." Kibbey called from cover.

Duke ran over to Graves but saw that he was finished. Wilkinson came out as things quieted.

"He's dead," Duke whispered as Wilkinson walked over.

"So's Grandslam." Kibbey said. "Zap took rounds to both legs, I carried him to cover and came back. They came by chopper, but it took off to the north."

"We need to get out of here before it comes back. See if we can rig a litter for Grunt and Grandslam. We're not leaving them behind." Stalker told them.

The bandaged man came over and picked up Grunt's body, laying him over his shoulder.

"Sure you can manage him?" Stalker asked and the man nodded.

"I can take Grandslam," Duke said. "That way we only need a litter for zap."

"Kibbey, as soon as we get to Zap I want you to radio them for extraction B. Tell them to come in fast."


	3. Chapter 3

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Missions Force **Chapter 2

Somewhere over Turkey May 17, 2010

"Is he okay?" Captain Lonzo Wilkinson asked as Dr. Adele Burkhart finished helping the Navy corpsman with Zap.

"We gave him something to sleep." Burkhart said as she turned her attention to the bandaged face of the man next to her. "Hopefully he won't lose his left leg. He was lucky with the right one. The bullets passed through the fleshy part and didn't do any serious damage."

"Thanks, Doc. You really helped him back there." Wilkinson told her as he thought back to the last five hours. Dr. Burkhart had bandaged Zap's legs as Kibbey had called for an extraction. They were told that the mission was compromised and to head for an alternative extraction point. The surprise had been when the Sikorsky CH-53E Super Stallion helicopter had come from the wrong direction, instead of the Blackhawk that was supposed to refuel and return for them. A squad of Marines had secured the perimeter as they loaded up. Once underway, three Navy corpsman had checked everyone over as Grunt and Grandslam had been placed in body bags.

"That's my job, Captain. What happened back there?"

"We were sold out. I hope I get my hands on whomever did this."

"The President?"

"Doubtful, Doc. That Russian Major was exaggerating. Or he was told that by his superiors." Wilkinson thought for a moment. "It's a good thing your friend was there. They had us by the short hairs."

"He's come in handy a few times. Haven't you Peter?" Doctor Burkhart said as "Peter" gave her a thumbs up.

"Where'd you learn that stuff, friend?"

"He wouldn't be able to tell you if he could." The doctor told him as "Peter" shrugged his shoulders. "He has retrograde amnesia. He's a complete blank up to the point he woke up a year ago. We've been unable to find anything about him."

"Whoever you are, thank you." Lonzo smiled and reached out his hand. "Peter" shook his hand, his shirt sleeve riding up as he did so. "That tattoo..."

Wilkinson's smile turned into a frown as he stared at the red dashes on the man's forearm. His thoughts drifted back to several years ago, to another mission that had gone wrong.

"What's wrong?" Doctor Burkhart asked as Peter tilted his head.

"I've seen that tattoo before." He said thoughtfully. "Two men I knew..."

U.S.S. Dwight D. Eisenhower, May 18, 2010

The Nimitz class aircraft carrier chugged through the Mediterranean Sea, surrounded by it's escort ships. Two deck's below, Captain Wilkinson and First Sergeant Conrad Hauser sat in the fleet ready room. Admiral Everett Colby, General Aaron Austin and Colonel Clayton Abernathy sat across from them.

"So pretty much," General Austin said, "the White House, the Joint Chiefs and the CIA are pointing fingers at each other. Or claiming that it was espionage. We didn't bother checking with SVR to verify that."

"Something stinks here, sir." Duke told the Marine. "The Russians knew our plan down to the minute. There's no way it could be espionage."

"That's why I had you redirected here." Colonel Abernathy said. "I couldn't risk an accident on the way to Afghanistan. Fortunately this has embarrassed enough people to insure your safety."

"But you're right that something stinks, Duke." Austin said. He sat straight in his chair, his tan utility uniform creased to precision. "The same day that Dr. Burkhart was captured; her partner, Dr. Archibald Monev, disappeared and a fire destroyed their research building. Also, another associate, Dr. Brian Bender disappeared from his home."

"Do you think there's any connection to the scientists and engineers who have gone missing over the last two years?" Lonzo asked Abernathy.

"What scientists, Colonel?" Admiral Colby asked. The former pilot absentmindedly rubbed his brown mustache as he leaned forward, his khaki service uniform crinkling with the movement.

Colonel Clayton "Hawk" Abernathy paused before answering. He was in his late forties, though still in excellent shape. His brown hair was only starting to gray and his brown eyes still held the steely gaze that earned him the nickname Hawk.

"Over the last three years eight scientists and five engineers have gone missing." Abernathy told them as he sat straight in his blue Army service uniform. "We've found no connection in their disappearances; we're just working on guesswork."

"What kind of scientists?" Austin asked in his normal low rumble.

"All were either working in brain chemistry, pharmaceuticals or physical enhancement." Wilkinson responded at Hawk's glance. "The engineers were experts in bio/medical and chemical. The similarities in fields brought them to our attention."

"Do you think Dr. Burkhart is involved?"

"I think she was a loose end that someone wanted eliminated," Hawk said. "We planned on giving her time to settle and then questioning her."

"Very good, Colonel." Colby said as he stood up. "We'll do a full debriefing in five days when we've had time to go over your reports. General Flagg will be here by then, hopefully with some information on who set you up."

The Pentagon, sub-level 2

"That's as far as we could follow the trail, General." Corporal Jaclyn Morelli said as she laid the report down on the antique oak desk that dominated the room. "There was too much interference to continue."

General James Longstreet Flagg regarded the short woman in front of him. "Interference from where?" Was all he asked as he opened the report.

"Everywhere, sir." Morelli said nervously, still not used to speaking directly to a general. The five foot two inch woman stood stiffly a attention, longing to brush an invisible strand of her short black hair from her forehead. "The CIA, NSA, Secret Service, Army Intelligence, The Joint Chiefs and the President's Advisory Staff. Sergeant Provost is following another lead and should report in by tomorrow morning."

"Thanks Corporal," Flagg said as he finished glancing at the report. He was a tall man in his early sixties and looked uncomfortable in his blue uniform. A lifetime of leading from the front had left him little patience for being desk bound.

"You can relax Corporal Morelli," he said. "I'm not big on formalities."

"Thank you Sir." She let her breath out but didn't noticeably change her posture.

"I'm joining Colonel Hawk in a few days; I want you and Sergeant Parker to accompany me." He smiled as he noticed how stiff she still was. "If we haven't uncovered anything by then, we're not going to."

"Yes Sir."

"I served with your father," Flagg said in an effort to make her comfortable. "Jack was my RTO during my first command back in 'Nam."

"He's mentioned you, sir." Morelli said as she thought of the war stories he used to tell her; the tension starting to leave her.

"That's why I requested for Hawk to make you my liaison on this. Keep gathering information; I've let everyone know that you answer directly to me so whatever you need will be made available. Report back to me at ten hundred tomorrow. Unless you discover something important before hand."

Chechnya, Kadyrovtsy militia camp May 20, 2010

The first explosion happened at exactly 2:01 AM, quickly followed by a dozen more. The final missile hit the helicopter that was kept ready for a quick escape. The two gunships came in low, emptying their rocket pods into anything left standing. Two more helicopters followed, hovering just off the ground as ten men in blue uniforms jumped out of each helicopter, followed by a tall skinny man in brown BDUs and a black helmet.

The twenty men fanned out, picking off survivors with their FN F2000 rifles as four men in gray and red uniforms joined the man in brown. They took a defensive position around him as they waited for the gunfire to die down.

"Major, Viper-one reports our target is holed up at what's left of the motor pool." One of the men in gray-red said. "They have met minimal resistance and are taking positions around the target."

"Excellent, Guardsman." Major Sebastian Bludd said in a high pitched Australian accent. He stared across the camp with his good right eye, the left covered with an eye patch. "Let's join them, lads."

He and the four Crimson Guardsmen strode confidently through the burning camp, stopping once to shoot an injured man crawling away. They reached two vipers who had taken cover behind the remains of a land rover.

"Report Viper-one." Major Bludd said to one of the men in blue uniforms with a blue helmet and face visor.

"Basayev has thrown up a barricade behind the T-72 tank," the viper said as he pointed to the burning hulk. "We've counted six men with him, lightly armed."

"Give the order to attack. I want Basayev alive."

"Yes, Major. Viper-one to teams three, four and five; take the position. Teams one and two provide support. Do not harm the target. Repeat; do not harm the target."

Twelve vipers left cover and moved towards the sand bags and debris hastily thrown together for cover. Six other vipers began firing, keeping the defenders heads down. Less then a moment later the barricade had been overrun and all six defenders killed.

"Viper-nine to Viper-one, the position is has been taken. The target is being delivered to you, all defenders are down. Viper-fourteen was the only casualty."

"Acknowledged Viper-nine. Secure the perimeter and prepare for extraction." Viper-one turned to Major Bludd." Sir, Basayev is being brought here. All the opposition is finished. Viper-fourteen was our only loss."

"Well done, Viper-one. Radio our pickup, and get the LZ secure." Bludd said as two vipers brought up a bloodied Chechen.

"Leave us, vipers." Bludd took hold of Basayev then flung him against the land rover. "Iiyas, you had one simple job and you couldn't handle it."

Iiyas Basayev glared at the major, his face soot covered and bleeding from his nose and ears. The forty year old Colonel in the Kadyrovtsy had been personally selected by the Chechen President to run this operation.

"You were supposed to kill the American doctor and in return the blame would fall on the rebels and we would supply you with our new state of the art tanks." Bludd backhanded Basayev as he stood up, knocking back against the land rover. "Instead you decide to use her as a bargaining chip?"

"The Americans are weak now," Basayev said. "The Russians wanted to use her."

"You double-crossed Cobra, mate. Did you think we'd let it slide?" Bludd said as he drew his FN Five-seveN pistol.

"I can still be of use to you! Please!"

"Sure you can," Bludd said as he pulled the trigger; sending a 5.7mm bullet through Basayev's knee. Basayev fell to the ground, screaming and clutching his left leg. "Tell us the name of your Russian contact."

"Andreev! Kirill Andreev!"

"The assistant minister of internal affairs?"

"Yes!"

"Thanks Iiyas, you were helpful." Bludd shot him in his other knee and both wrists. "With luck someone will get to you before the wolves. Let's go lads, beers on me."

Notes: The SVR is the Russian Republics version of the KGB. The Kadryovtsky Militia was created by Chechen President as a paramilitary force used as his personal guard. They were run by the President's son Ramzan Kadyrov who became President after his father was assassinated. They were reorganized into the Chechen Army in 2006 though they also serve as a death squad for Kadryov's enemies. Pretty much they're a bunch of thugs with criminal records who serve as lackeys for the vicious bastard running the country who's hobbies are kidnapping, murder, torture and rape. Various human rights groups have declared Kadryov a war criminal and the Human Rights Watch sent a briefing paper to the UN on the abundant use of torture in Chechnya. The UN did as it always does and tittered over how awful this is and remained useless.


	4. Chapter 4

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Missions Force** Chapter 3

Volgograd, Russia May 22, 2010

The limousine was flanked by two white SUVs as it hurried down the highway toward the Volgograd International Airport. In the back of the limousine, Kirill Andreev was having the most heated phone conversation of his career as Assistant Minister of Internal Affairs.

"Yes sir, I'm sure there is no connection between myself and the Chechens. There's no way the Americans will..."

"Fuck the Americans!" The Minister of Defense screamed. "They're the least of our problems. You have no idea of the players involved in this! The fact that your meddling has cost us a squad of our best troops and opened us to retaliation from..."

"From what, Minister?" Andreev asked, his curiosity getting the better of his diplomacy.

"Never mind that. Just hope that your career is the only thing lost from this. The president wants you in his office as soon as you land."

"Yes sir. I'm scheduled to land at two."

"You had better prepare to kiss a lot of ass. Your fuck up has pissed off the entire administration!"

"Understood sir, I'll.." Andreev said as he realized the call had ended.

"Shit," he said under his breath. Andreev had already made plans for his family to leave the country. Now it was a matter of figuring out how to escape himself.

He had already figured out who he would have to bribe when the SUV in front exploded into a ball of flame. The limo slammed to a halt as flames began leaping up from underneath. Behind them, the trailing SUV had stopped and the doors opened as it exploded. The engine of the limo exploded, driving shrapnel through the dashboard and killing the driver and bodyguard.

Andreev was deafened by the blast and didn't notice the flames coming from the front until his eyes started watering from the smoke. In a panic he tried pushing open the doors, finding them sealed. He could feel the heat beginning to blister his skin. Motivated by fear he kicked at the windows, fighting to release himself.

From a rooftop half a mile away, the masked man in gray camouflage watched through the scope of a PSG-1 sniper rifle. He stayed until the limo had burned to the point of being unrecognizable. Then as the police and fire engines arrived, he walked to his bag and took out a radio.

"Firefly to Baroness, money has been received and the job is completed. Thanks for the business."

U.S.S. Dwight D. Eisenhower, somewhere in the Mediterranean

"So you have no idea what Dr. Monev may have been up to?" Colonel Abernathy asked.

"No, he was always secretive and kind of intense." Dr. Adele Burkhart told him. "We kind of had a falling out over Peter. He seemed more concerned about proving the scanner than helping."

"And Doctor Bender?"

"I had only met him twice. He was a student of Archibald's, a little bit out there to be honest." Burkhart thought for a moment. "He was a radical. And prone to taking short cuts. Also he had an odd snake obsession; he always wore a cobra hooded tie tack and I once interrupted he and Archibald talking about cobras. The look he gave me was one of the scariest I had seen. Up until the past few weeks that is..."

Abernathy, Wilkinson and Hauser all exchanged looks as they sat around "Peter's" bed in the ships infirmary; something that didn't go unnoticed by "Peter". He tilted his head inquisitively at the three.

"Can you remember anything that was said?" Abernathy asked.

"Just bits of it, really. Things like 'I spoke with the cobra' and 'the cobra commanded or commander'. The only thing that stood out was 'the scanner could create a new breed of viper'. Like I said, he was out there."

"Thank you, Doctor. You've been a lot of help." Abernathy exchanged another look with Wilkinson. "Captain, you said you may have some information on our friend here?"

"Possibly, sir." Lonzo Wilkinson said as both Dr. Burkhart and Peter perked up. "It was in Afghanistan in '02. There were two guys that rotated into my Ranger platoon. Both of them had a tattoo like our friend here. There was Tommy, he was Japanese-American and another guy we called Snake. He was about 'Peter's height and build and didn't say much."

"I can't remember his real name, they weren't with us more than six months. Then they were picked up by some black ops group. Snake was one of our demo guys. Also he was scary with a knife. He and Tommy were amazing. They were like having an extra squad with us."

"So you can check your records and get a name that we can match him to?" Burkhart asked.

"I'm afraid not, doc." Wilkinson looked at Abernathy who nodded. "I checked already. There's no record of either of them. Someone went back and wiped out all trace."

"So there's nothing?"

"Pretty much. It gives us a starting point to start digging. Who knows what was missed. Nobody can erase all trace of a person."

"Okay, I need to get ready to brief General Flagg so that's all for now." Colonel Abernathy told them. "Doctor Burkhart, thanks again. Captain, Sergeant; the General's forwarding some intel I need you to go over."

"Sir." Wilkinson and Hauser said as they stood up.

"Colonel, if you learn anything else about Peter please let us know." Burkhart said.

"Of course Doctor." Abernathy smiled at her then turned to Peter. "Actually I would like to stay a moment, Peter. If you don't mind? I have something to discuss."

Peter nodded as the others left.

"I think Lonzo's on to something about you." Abernathy began. "If you're interested I have an offer for you." When Peter nodded he continued.

"I want you to join our outfit. Once you recover from surgery we'll send you through a few months of evaluation to see your full capabilities and then put you through any training we think you'll need. After that you'll join Lonzo's team."

Peter absentmindedly rubbed his chin through the bandages as he considered.

"I don't need an answer now, but please think about it. We will, of course do everything possible to find out who you really are."

Peter nodded and held out his hand.

"We're off loading Doctor Burkhart and the others in four days." Abernathy said as he took Peter's hand. "Let me know before then."

As he closed the door Hawk looked thoughtful for moment. "And when you do find out who you are," he said quietly, "I hope you'll forgive me."

Undisclosed location in the Western Hemisphere May 23, 2010

"Report, Baroness." The raspy voice said as the attractive woman in a black jumpsuit entered his chamber. She stopped in front of the cobra shaped throne, well aware of the squad of Crimson Guardsmen in the shadows; and the figure noticeably absent from his normal place behind the throne.

"Major Bludd and Firefly were both successful." The Baroness said, squinting her icy blue eyes against the darkness. "The only loose end is Andreev's contact in the Russian Mafia. He was the go between Basayev and Andreev. Josef Shelkov, former Soviet Army administrator. Last seen in Georgia."

"That is being taken care. You have done well." She could see her reflection in his mirrored face mask as he regarded her. "Send a bonus to Firefly and let him know we will have further use for him soon. You will leave immediately to take charge of Project Daedalus."

"Yes Commander," She said as she turned and walked away.

U.S.S. Dwight D. Eisenhower

"So the name Cobra pops up again." General James Longstreet Flagg said as Colonel Abernathy finished his report.

"Yes Sir, I'm beginning to think we're on to something big."

"You may be right, Clay. I wish I had more information for you. It seems we've been stonewalled from every direction. The only thing I have is from Sergeant Provost before he disappeared two days ago." Flagg passed a printout to Abernathy.

"He's found a possible link to a hostile party that may be influencing the upper levels of government and will be off the grid for awhile? Sir, this sounds like a wild goose chase."

"But it's all we have. With the level of corruption surrounding this administration, anything is possible. You didn't serve when President Johnson was in office, but his administration was much the same and ended up with a Soviet agent in a high level cabinet post."

"So how should we proceed?"

"Cautiously. We keep everything in unit for now. I want you and Major Wilkinson to work out the best course of action. Along with a contingency. As of right now, Task Force J is off the grid. After what happened with the rescue operation, I'm not risking the proper chains of command."

Abernathy was silent for a moment. "Sir, if this as big as we think; we'll need a larger force than what we have. There's no way we can keep this quiet."

"Let me worry about that. I think that myself, General Austin and Admiral Colby can come up with a solution."

Bat'umi, Georgia May 26, 2010

It was humid in the Black Sea port city, a drizzly morning had turned into an unusually hot afternoon. Josef Shelkov wiped his brow as he exited the back of his Mercedes S65 AMG sedan. He was short and pale, with what was left of his hair graying fast. He coughed as the humid air pulled the breath from his four hundred pound frame, then returned to wiping his brow.

The restaurant tried it's best to be authentic French, and had long been his favorite in the city. The price of the menu insured no one would interrupt his meal and his reputation guaranteed his favorite table was always available. One of his four bodyguards opened the door and the host quickly greeted him and escorted the group to his usual spot. To find it occupied by an Asian man in a well tailored white suit.

"On time, General Shelkov. I like that." The Asian said in flawless Russian. He smiled at Shelkov though his eyes remained a cold brown. "I was afraid I would be kept waiting, and I do hate waiting."

"How dare you sir." The host said. "This table is reserved for Mr. Shelkov and his party..."

"Mr. Shelkov is fine with me being here; aren't you General?"

"I think you should leave before I have my men remove you." Shelkov said with an attempt at menace.

"That would be unwise," Storm Shadow told him as he smiled again. "I'm certain you want to hear what I have to say. Well I should say, what the organization I represent wants said. Or would you prefer the same type of meeting that your friend Andreev had?"

At the mention of the recently deceased Russian Assistant Minister of Internal Affairs, Shelkov hesitated. He started sweating, even though the air conditioning kept the restaurant cool.

"It's okay my friend," Shelkov told the host. "My guest and I have much to discuss. Would you please delay the server."

"Very well sir." The host said as he seated Shelkov.

"So who are you? FSB? SVR?"

"Let's just say I represent people who's business covers a lot of interests. And right now you are one of those interests."

Shelkov paled at that. His mind wandering to rumors of a secret organization that had been steadily building influence. Perhaps to the point of influencing governments themselves?

"I'm sure we would be better off discussing these things alone." Storm Shadow said, letting a hint of coldness touch his voice. Shelkov quickly motioned for his bodyguards to leave.

"So what do you know of Andreev and Basayev's operation in Dagestan?"

"Very little. I supplied a courier to Andreev."

"Yes, I'm afraid that courier is no longer with you. We couldn't take chances on someone so unimportant having information about us. I'm assuming that your courier kept you informed; yes?"

"Yes," Shelkov swallowed.

"And you have shared this information?"

"Of course not. The whole idea seemed foolhardy to me. But I am a professional."

"That is very good. Fortunately you aren't unimportant, so we may be able to come to an agreement?"

Shelkov frowned at that, wishing he could stop sweating. He nodded his acceptance, afraid to speak.

"Your smuggling organization intrigues us. We would like to make use of it on occasion. At no cost of course."

"Of course," Shelkov said. Realizing that he was making a deal with a very real devil.

"Also we may need use of your other assets from time to time. Nothing major, just the occasional project."

Shelkov nodded again.

"Very good. I see you continuing to stay important." Storm Shadow smiled reassuringly. "Finally we understand that a lot of valuable information comes to you. We would appreciate if you pass it on to us."

"Yes, no problem."

"Well I thank you for your time." Storm Shadow said as he stood up. "And I'll let my employers know how willing you are to cooperate."

Storm stopped as he walked by Shelkov.

"I almost forgot."

"Yes?" Shelkov asked when Storm Shadow didn't continue.

"I was told to leave you something to show how important we hold your cooperation." Storm Shadow placed a small white box in front of Shelkov.

Shelkov gulped as he stared at the box, noticing that it wasn't completely white. Dead center on the top was a small red cobra. He hesitantly reached out and opened it. He fought back the urge to vomit as he gasped. He recognized the ornate ring, still attached to a fresh bloody hand, as belonging to his driver. How had this man done this and still made it to his table so quickly...

"Don't worry, I made sure not to make a mess of your car. It is a Mercedes after all. Good day, General."


	5. Chapter 5

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force** Chapter 4

USS Dwight D Eisenhower, somewhere in the Mediterranean May 26, 2010

They stood around as the flight crew made final preparations on the MH-60 Seahawk. The corpsman still shot a scolding look at "Peter" for refusing the wheelchair. Colonel Abernathy and Major Wilkinson were with him and Dr. Burkhart.

"So where are you heading after you reach Sicily, Doc?" Wilkinson asked.

"To Switzerland," Burkhart told him. "Peter's scheduled for reconstructive surgery at the Bern Institute. Doctor Hundtkinder has a new treatment that I think is Peters best shot."

"He's the one that helped the victims from that fuel fire in India last year, right?" Abernathy asked. "I've heard he was a miracle worker."

"That's him. There was at least twenty-seven people that were going to be disfigured for life until Dr. Hundtkinder stepped in. He also rebuilt the faces of several people hurt in the train crash where Peter was found."

"Good luck, Peter." Abernathy said as the pilot gave the go sign and the crew began helping the other former hostages aboard. "Take as long as you need, we'll be in touch. Dr. Burkhart, thank you again for your help with the wounded. If you need anything, Peter has my contact information."

Goodbye, Doc," Wilkinson said as he shook hands. "I guess we'll be seeing you later, Peter."

They stepped aside as Peter and Dr. Burkhart boarded. The elevator began raising the helicopter to the flight deck as the pilot began the final start up routine.

"You sure you want involved with these people?" Burkhart asked Peter. He nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I guess that's a yes. Just make sure the Colonel knows that if he doesn't take care of you he has to deal with me."

Undisclosed location in the Western Hemisphere June 27, 2010

"I trust you have adjusted to your new surroundings, gentlemen." The raspy voice of Cobra Commander came from the open door and the two men in lab coats turned around. They were in a cavernous sterile white room surrounded by crates and boxes. A platoon of blue clad vipers, supervised by a handful of men in purple uniforms with silver and black ventilated face masks, were busy unloading and setting up the complicated lab equipment.

"Yes Commander," the bald man said. He was tall and muscular with a black fu manchu mustache. Dr. Mindbender peered at the Commander over his dark glasses that sat on the tip of his nose.

"Yes, everything is satisfactory." Doctor Archibald Monev said in a hurried voice. He was tall and thin with a perpetual sour look on his face. His brown hair was thinning and unkempt, adding to the feeling of someone who is always in a rush.

"Good, Dr Mindbender, Dr. Venom. And the set up is on schedule?" Cobra Commander wore a bright blue uniformed styled after a World War Two German officers uniform, complete with flared pants and high boots. The crimson stripe running down each leg matched the cobra symbol over his heart. The polished metal faceplate under his blue helmet reflected the images of the two scientists, creating an intimidating effect that he used on all of his underlings.

"Yes, the Techno-Vipers have all the schematics." Venom answered. "I should be able to start building a new brain wave scanner within a week."

"And I shall start refining the formula your other guests have created," Mindbender added.

"Excellent," the Commander rasped. "Then I shall leave you two. Come Storm Shadow, we have other stops to make."

Both scientists paled as they realized the man in gray and white had been there unnoticed the whole time.

Fort Bragg, NC August 23, 2010

"How's our new recruit, Lonzo?" Colonel Clayton Abernathy asked from behind his desk, wearing a standard camouflaged Army Combat Uniform.

"They fixed him up pretty well." Captain Lonzo Wilkinson answered, standing with his hands arms behind his back. He wore the same uniform but with a tan Ranger beret. "The scarring is pretty intense, but everything has been rebuilt."

"And the evaluation?"

"He's amazing. We've put him through weapons, hand to hand, diving, demolitions and survival. He went through them without a problem. Duke is working with him at the moment, getting ready for jump trials. From what I've seen so far, he already knows this also."

"I want him training with your team as soon as you feel he's ready"

"That should be after jump evaluation. We're scheduled for a HALO jump in two weeks. I'll have him join us for that."

"Excellent. Keep me posted. How are the two new guys fitting in?"

"Faireborn is a bit mouthy, but he can back it up. Katzenbogan is pretty quiet but knows his demolitions. We need to find a nickname for him, though."

"Duke can keep Fairborn under control. Keep them working, I need you mission capable by November."

Vlore, Albania January 19, 2011

Infiltration had been a breeze. Four of the team had flown into Tirana International Airport on separate flights. Warrant Officer Dasheill Faireborn had been in charge of the rental car and had clandestinely picked the other three up at various points around the city. They drove east in a VW Touareg SUV and then south on SH4. Eventually they hit SH8 and continued south, through the port city of Vlore, and stopped along a deserted section of shoreline.

The remaining two had departed at night from a freighter in the Adriatic Sea, and had come in on a Combat Rubber Raiding Craft with the team's equipment. The silent man dressed in black had manned the engine as they reached the coast. Sergeant David Katzenbogen had shined a red light three times and was answered by two quick flashes of a yellow one. They put to shore and quickly loaded the supplies into the SUV. The boat was deflated and hidden in a drainage pipe.

The group arrived at the CIA run safe house just outside of Vlore at dawn. They quickly set up and grabbed a few hours sleep, switching off on guard duty every two hours. That afternoon First Sergeant Conrad Hauser and Faireborn took the SUV and drove down the Vlore-Kanine Road. Newly promoted Sergeant Alvin Kibbey manned the radio as the others finished prepping for the mission.

The intel had come in quick. Quicker than anyone was prepared to act in a friendly country. Wanted terrorists Ayman Al-Hamadei and Jaber Mohammed Al-Umari and four to ten others were preparing to meet a freighter at the Port of Vlore. The information they had said that the men were to blend in with crew of the Turkish freighter Kolay Yelken. The ship was bound for Mexico and from there the suspected terrorists would have disappeared. General Flagg had been given this from a friend at CIA and had forwarded it to Colonel Abernathy. The mission parameters were to confirm and eliminate.

"I believe this is it, Duke." Faireborn said as they passed a muddy dirt road. He continued on as Hauser saved the exact coordinates on their GPS and then marked the location on the map. Faireborn was just under six feet tall and stocky. He kept his dark hair cut short and had a continuous smirk stuck on his face.

"I have it marked." Hauser said. "The ship's due on the twenty-second so we have to act fast."

"This will be an easy one. Who knows, maybe we'll get some sight seeing done before we leave."

"No such thing as easy, Flint." Hauser said, but let himself grin. "Me and Snake Eyes are going to recon tonight. The so called plan calls for us to hit them tomorrow night."

"Me an' the Captain will have everything laid out before you get back." Faireborn said confidently. The former Rhodes Scholar had a cocky streak. What infuriated everyone was the way he backed it up.

"I'm sure you will. Try not to annoy Bazooka too much. He's gray enough as it is." Duke was still getting used to the code names that the Colonel was insisting they use. It had started as a joke when they were complaining about Katzenbogen's name. Then the Colonel had decided it would tighten security on the group.

At 9:10 PM the SUV drove by the same location. A mile later it stopped and two figures in black ran from the back. They reached a ditch between the road line and a scrub forest as the truck continued on.

Duke had dark paint applied to his face and a sock cap covering his blond hair. At his side Snake Eyes wore a black mask and goggles to complement the same colored commando sweater, BDU pants, boots and gloves he wore.

They took off through the forest, Duke on point with a M4A1 carbine. Snake Eyes followed carrying an UZI 9mm submachine gun. About a mile from their destination the forest thinned out more. Duke saw movement through his night vision goggles and signaled Snake Eyes to stop. Two men carrying M16 assault rifles walked by in a disorderly patrol. After they passed, Duke moved out again. Not stopping until he and Snake Eyes were laying prone on a small hill.

In front of them were five small wooden buildings, set haphazardly around an old stone well. An old cargo van and a pickup were parked to one side, away from the rusting hulk of what used be a Lincoln or Cadillac. Not far from the well, two tables has been put together to form a big communal table next to a large fire. Four men sat at one end talking.

Bingo, thought Duke as he saw the face of Umari through the lens of his night vision camera. He snapped a picture and quickly forwarded it to Breaker. He snapped two more shots and then started taking shots of the buildings.

Snake Eyes touched Duke's arm and he stopped as the two men from the patrol joined the others. After they had sat down Duke began taking photos again. He zoomed in on one of the men from the patrol and paused. He snapped a quick shot and forwarded it to Breaker as he tried to place a name to the face. Gavril Cristi known in professional circles as Mangea de Cristal, Crystal Ball. He had gotten a glance at the Romanian interrogator once before, as he and his Special Forces team had raided a prison camp in Iraq. What was left of the man he was questioning is something that still haunts his dreams at night.

Eventually the men went into various buildings as two others came out to stand watch. Duke and Snake Eyes kept taking the occasional photo as they waited for the men to get tired. Which didn't take long as first one then the other began stretching and yawning.

"We need a head count" Duke whispered to Snake Eyes.

Snake nodded then touched his demolitions bag.

"You think you can plant them without being discovered before tomorrow?"

Snake Eyes nodded again and Duke thought it over.

"Okay, hit both vehicles and do the buildings as you think best."

Snake Eyes gave him a thumbs up and crawled backwards until he disappeared into the night. This was his third mission with the team and Duke still hadn't figured out the man's limits. He saw Snake Eyes briefly through the night vision camera as he crawled under the pickup. A few moments later he saw him darting between buildings. Then there was nothing for thirty minutes. The guards changed as two more men came out. Duke snapped a shot of one of the men, Hamadei, to confirm his presence. Moments later there was a tapping behind him as Snake Eyes announced himself.

"You got everything?" Duke whispered as Snake crawled up to him. Snake nodded and gave him a thumbs up. "I'll signal for pick up then."

The next afternoon they sat around a table with, Bazooka and Breaker. Flint had drawn watch duty at the compound, making sure the team was updated on who came and went. Captain Lonzo Wilkinson stood in front of a diagram of the compound. Various photos were spread out across the table along with several cups of coffee.

"So looks like we have eleven in total," Wilkinson said. "Four men each are using these cabins." He pointed to the two buildings closest to the well. "The two in back are empty and both Hamadei and Umari have this one off to the side. Apparently they have a special guest. Gavril Cristi, alias Crystal Ball. His photo's at the top of the pile, along with his dossier. Make sure you familiarize yourself with him. He's extremely dangerous. Our orders are to take him alive if possible."

"Snake Eyes has planted explosives on both vehicles, the two empty cabins and this one." He pointed to the eastern of the two occupied buildings. "This is where they are keeping their demolitions gear. I'm giving the detonator to Bazooka; he'll start the attack."

"Breaker will be positioned here," Wilkinson pointed to the hill Duke and Snake Eyes had used. "He'll act as coordinator and overwatch. You get the suppressed M-110 with the night scope."

"Bazooka you'll take the middle ground. You'll blow the occupied cabin and the two vehicles first. Then the two empties. After that, use your SAW to pin them down until the rest of us reach the perimeter. You'll be covering us from then on."

"The assault teams are Duke and Flint from the east and Snake Eyes and myself from the west. We're not taking chances. Don't worry about taking Cristi until everyone is down. Any questions?"

"What kind of armaments will we be facing," Bazooka asked. He was the oldest man there by nearly a decade. He was of average height and looked overweight, until you saw him up close and realized it was all muscle. His dark hair was streaked with gray and was thick, like the large mustache that hid a shrapnel wound from his youth.

"Unknown." Duke said as Wilkinson nodded at him. "We saw M16's and a few sidearms. Expect mainly small arms and grenades. I think if we drop some forty mikes on the second cabin it will just be a mop up."

"Agreed." Wilkinson said. "Duke and I have M203's so we'll drop them as soon as Bazooka starts firing. Snake and Flint can toss in some flash bangs to keep them disoriented."

"Any sensors or improvised devises we should worry about, Stalker?" Breaker asked using Wilkinson's codename. He popped his ever present bubble gum as he spoke.

"Not that Snake Eyes could find. From what we've seen of him I'd say there aren't any. Any other questions? No. Okay,then remember. We are not to engage any military or police. This is a friendly country. If interrupted we're to evade or surrender. Bazooka, you're to relieve Flint. The rest of you get the gear ready."

Notes: Dr. Hundtkinder is from the Marvel comic. The plastic surgeon who fixed up the Baroness and later Snake Eyes, before turning him over to the Baroness. Mangea de Cristal is the Romanian translation of crystal ball. Kolay Yelken translates from Turkish as easy sailing. Or close to it anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force **Chapter 5

Los Angeles, CA January 20,2011

"Begin working on the European phase." The Baroness said to the two men in the room with her. "As soon as the groups from Albania and South Africa arrive we'll have the American phase covered."

"Yes Baroness." The tallest man said with a Hispanic accent. He was 6'6" and built like a pro wrestler, wearing a black jumpsuit and shiny steel mask. "I think our best bet would be recruiting from the jihadist communities that Germany has allowed to crop up. They should be able to easily move throughout the EU."

"There is also the Basque National Liberation Movement. They've been on the retreat and may be willing to do something on this scale to prove themselves" The other said in a high pitched Australian accent. Major Bludd wore his normal brown BDU's without the helmet, showing his short black hair cut to military regulation.

"Excellent. Steel Cobra will stay with me to help coordinate with our Central American cell. Major you'll head for Spain immediately. Get in touch with your Basque contacts. I'll work at getting a meeting set with the Germans."

"Keeping me at arms length still, Baroness?" Bludd sneered as he turned to leave.

"I'm sure I'll manage the loneliness while you're gone." She responded rolling her eyes.

Vlore, Albania January 21, 2011

At precisely 12:35AM Breaker took his position overlooking the compound. He set up the night vision scope on his M-110 7.62mm sniper rifle and checked over the site.

"This is Breaker," He said over the LASH2 headset they all wore. "Everything's quiet. Two guards have just returned and are sitting at the table."

"Roger, Breaker." Stalker said as he and Snake Eyes knelt outside the blast radius of the camp. He wore the same black combat uniform that all but Snake Eyes wore and carried a 5.56mm M4A1 carbine with a M203 40mm grenade launcher. Snake Eyes wore the black pants, commando sweater, boots, gloves and mask that was his normal outfit. He carried a 9mm UZI submachine gun. "Snake and I are in position. Give me a check in."

"Flint and I are ready." Duke said as he loaded a 40mm grenade into the launcher under his M4A1. Flint wore a black Beret and carried a Mossberg M590 12 gauge shotgun.

"In position." Bazooka said as he set up his M249 5.56mm squad automatic weapon. He pulled off the M72A7 light anti-armor weapon and laid it beside the machine gun, then he lay prone.

"Okay," Stalker said. "If they stick to last nights schedule then they change guards around 0100. Breaker you give the word."

They waited in the darkness, the sound of the port city drifting to them. Breaker pushed back his helmet and went back to looking through the scope.

"Hit it." Breaker said at exactly 1:02 AM when the two men headed for the wired cabin and two others exited. Seconds later that cabin exploded in a ball of flame, quickly followed by the pickup and Cargo Van. As men ran out of the other cabin the last two blew apart.

Stalker and Duke both fired grenades onto one of the two standing cabins, as Bazooka began emptying the two hundred round belt of his M249. Breaker ordered Bazooka to stop as he saw the others draw near, then shut his eyes as Flint and Snake Eyes tossed M84 stun grenades.

The four men rushed the camp as the terrorists began pulling themselves together. Duke and Flint cut loose on two men crawling to retrieve their rifles. Snake Eyes put a burst of 9mm into another who had made it to his feet. Stalker shot one man who had started to run and then turned in time to take out another who had a pistol in his hand.

Snake Eyes dove and pulled Stalker down as another began firing an Armenian K6-92 submachine gun, barely missing Stalker. Flint pulled the trigger of his Mossberg and the terrorist went backwards as the 12 gauge slug punched through him. Quickly working the pump, Flint added another round to make sure. The men scattered, checking the last building and the wreckage.

Breaker saw movement through his night vision scope and sighted on a fleeing man. Recognizing the mustached face of Ayman Al-Hamadei he slowed his breathing, then pulling the trigger. The 7.62mm bullet caught Hamadei just under his left ear and continued onward. A quick second shot caught between the shoulder blades as he was already falling.

"Hamadei is down," Breaker called over the Lash.

"So's Umari," Flint said as the team regrouped.

"No sign of Cristi." Duke said. "He either was caught in the explosion or left before we got here."

"Breaker maintain your position." Stalker said. "Bazooka connect with us here. You and Snake Eyes will provide cover while we go through this mess. Breaker keep a check on military and emergency channels. Make sure we know if anyone reported this."

Duke and Stalker started a slow check of the bodies as Flint went into the cabin used by Umari, Hamadei and Cristi, purposely left standing to save any intel. He bagged the loose papers setting on a small table and then emptied the former inhabitants belongings; bagging anything that looked important. Outside, Duke and Stalker were taking pictures of the bodies and emptying their pockets.

"Stalker, over here." Duke called as he knelt by one man. When Stalker came over he noticed that the body was Caucasian.

"What have you got?"

"Nothing in his pockets. Kind of odd having this guy and a Romanian mixed in with the hardline jihadists."

"Maybe he was a convert like that idiot Gadahn." Stalker frowned as he turned the mans head. "What's this?"

"What..." Duke started to ask as he saw the small red cobra tattooed at the base of the mans neck.

"Get a picture of this. I'll get his prints and we'll check the others for markings."

As they cleared up and left, a section of floor under the table in the cabin opened. A short wild eyed man crawled out, his black hair a disheveled mess. He grinned, an evil look that turned his mustache upward.

"I win again." Crystal Ball giggled as he got to his feet.

The Pentagon March 12, 2011

"So with the information gathered from the Albanian mission, we were able to hit two other cells." Colonel Clayton Abernathy said as he and Captain Lonzo "Stalker" Wilkinson stood in their blue Army Service Uniforms in front of the six men.

"And both were heading towards us?" General Flagg asked, wearing a similar blue uniform.

"Yes sir," Abernathy replied. "The raid in Turkey also has given us a lot of fresh intel. My men are currently going over it now."

"Captain Wilkinson, you're reports mention something about a cobra tattoo?" Asked ranking General Joe Colton. Rows of ribbons adorned his blue uniform, testifying to his reputation as the most decorated Special Forces soldier of all time. At seventy years old, he still looked dashing in his green beret.

"Yes Sir. At each site we found one man with a small red cobra tattooed at the base of his neck. Two were Americans, the third French. All had been declared dead four to seven years ago. All were wanted by the FBI."

"This cobra theme has been cropping up pretty often in your reports, Colonel. What does it mean?" General Sam Hollingsworth asked. His blue Air Force uniform was slightly crinkled, which fitted the sixty year old black man. He was overweight and balding, having settled too easily from fighter pilot to bureaucrat.

"We're not sure. Whatever it is, it reaches every continent." Abernathy said. "Our investigations tend to hit dead ends and false trails. Whether it's a corporation, a terrorist organization or social club for power brokers; they cover themselves well."

"So they just appeared out of nowhere?" General Aaron Austin asked, his marine regulation hair graying. He sat stiffly, in excellent shape for someone in his late fifties. His green service uniform was perfectly fitted.

"That appears to be the case." Abernathy said. "They started showing up after 2005..."

"That isn't entirely true, Colonel." General Colton said from his perch. Everyone turned to him, respecting his years of service. "It was after Vietnam when we started hearing of something in the shadows, connecting all the chaos that was happening around the world. Special Ops wasn't as connected as now so we had to do it all ourselves. Unfortunately, President Carter gutted the military before we could find anything solid. We were so busy fighting for our own survival that all our leads dried up."

"Do you remember anything about the investigation?" General Ray Ryan asked. He was slightly younger than his fellow Marine, and still an excellent shot despite being blind in one eye.

"Not off the top of my head. Fortunately we kept better records than most units back then. I'll have them sent to Colonel Abernathy."

"Thank you, Sir." Abernathy said.

"But what can we do about it?" Captain Wilkinson asked. "We've met resistance from everywhere."

"The Generals and I have a plan for that." Admiral Everett Colby told him. The former fighter pilot and carrier commander was younger than all the generals but Flagg. His blue Navy service uniform was as well fitted as his Marine counterparts, but he kept his white combination cap tilted slightly. "We just need time to put it together."

"We're going to be sending you some files, Colonel." General Flagg said. "I want you and the Captain to go through them and pick out the people you think best suited to expand your team."

"Yes sir," Colonel Abernathy said. "But won't expansion draw attention to us?"

"Like the Admiral said," General Austin replied. "We're working on it."

"Colonel, you and your team keep working on your assignments." Flagg told them. "We'll meet together in June and see where things stand."

The same undisclosed location in the Western Hemisphere May 23,2011

"You're behind schedule, Baroness." Cobra Commander said from his thrown. Storm Shadow stood silently behind him, arms crossed, and a squad of Crimson Guardsmen lined the walls of the room.

"Only in America, Commander." The Baroness told him. "The European, African and Australian phases are ready. Asia is on schedule. I'll be meeting with revolutionaries in Japan, Korea and China when I leave here. Only two of the six groups sent to America have arrived. The other four were completely wiped out. My guess is the Israelis, since we haven't managed to infiltrate them. Though the Special Air Service or SOCOM could have a black team out there."

"It's the Americans." Cobra Commander said as he pushed a button on his thrown. "We have a witness." A door opened allowing Crystal Ball to enter.

"It was the Americans." The 5'2" man squealed. His eyes were a dark blue, almost purple, and blood shot; staring through whoever he looked at. Chrystal Ball's voice was high pitched and he tended to giggle as he spoke.

"They know something about Cobra. The leaders were excited to find your symbol on your man's body.

Not to mention all the information our friends left laying around."

"And they followed the trail to the other groups." The Baroness said. "It will be difficult to find replacements for them. The Latin American organizations aren't interested in the U.S. They would only cooperate for operations in their territories. We may be able to recruit from the few groups in America and Canada, but they're small and don't have the manpower or resources for what we're asking."

"See what you can do, Baroness. If we have to scale down the American phase, so be it." Cobra Commander thought for a moment. "What cities are ready now?"

"New York, LA, Chicago, Atlanta, Toronto and Vancouver. Perhaps we can use our own men for the others?"

"Our men are not disposable. These are suicide missions, the kind that seem to appeal to our compatriots. Storm Shadow will accompany you on your trip Baroness. You will make a stop in Venezuela on your return. We have need of a new weapons dealer since the last was foolish enough to try cheating us. You will be given a list of our needs when you land."

Fort Bragg, North Carolina June 4, 2011

"Okay men, we have a second chance." Colonel Clayton "Hawk" Abernathy said as the six men took their seats. "Gavril Cristi was was sighted in Durban, South Africa two days ago. Our latest intel has another group of bad guys, this time from the PAGAD organization, trying exit Port Shepstone in the same country. That's too much of a coincidence for my tastes. We locate one, we'll find the other."

"Coincidence or setup." Chief Warrant Officer Dashiell "Flint" Faireborn said. "We've been hitting too many of these for them to get this careless. Cristi hasn't been photographed in ten years. Now he slips up?"

"We still have to go for it," First Sergeant Conrad "Duke" Hauser said. "Whatever is planned for these guys; I'm betting it happens in our country."

"I agree," Hawk said. "Our best bet is to go in fast. Scout and hit in the same night."

"Go in loaded for bear?" Sergeant David "Bazooka" Katzenbogen asked.

"It's doable," Flint said, looking at satellite imagery of the location. "Hit them with mortars and rockets to soften things up. What about air support?"

"That's a negative." Hawk responded. "This is another friendly nation so no air support. You'll need to clear the area quickly before the South African National Defense Force responds."

"That'll give us a thirty, forty minute window." Captain Lonzo "Stalker" Wilkinson said. "I did some training with them. First response will be from their Special Forces Brigade by Lynx helicopter. The Army will be twenty minutes behind them. If they respond. The South African government has been ignoring attacks on farmsteads for the past few years."

"Any way I can get their communications codes?" Sergeant Alvin "Breaker" Kibbey asked. "That way I can monitor their response."

"I'll see what I can do." Hawk told him.

"This looks like a working farm," Duke said. "What about civilians?"

"The owners were tortured and killed two months ago, it's been abandoned since." Hawk said as Snake Eyes gestured.

"No we won't have time for full Reconnaissance." Hawk answered. "This will be a tough one. We have very little intel and need it done before they can leave. You'll rendezvous with the USS Virginia and go in via boat. Stalker and Flint will stay with me for planning, the rest of you get packing; you leave tonight."


	7. Chapter 7

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force **Chapter 6

June 7, 2011

The Pentagon, 2:30PM Eastern Standard Time

Colonel Clayton Abernathy entered the room in sub-level 2 and paused, looking at the seven men sitting at a table in front of him. He was unsure what they had in store for him, and frankly a little nervous. These men were power players with centuries of experience between them.

"Have a seat Colonel," Major General James Longstreet Flagg said. He sat near the center of the long table. Sitting dead center was Lieutenant General Joseph Colton of the Special Forces. General Flagg of Army Strategic Command, Rear Admiral Everett Colby of the Navy Fleet Command and Brigadier General Sam Hollingsworth of the Air Force sat to his left. To Colton's right were Major General Aaron Austin and Brigadier General Ray Ryan of the United States Marine Corps. At the far right was an unknown man in a business suit.

"Colonel this is Admiral Richard Dyson." Colby said when he noticed Hawk's glance. "We served together for some time before the CIA hijacked him."

"Admiral," Hawk said tightly. He tried getting a read for the thin man, but his gaunt face was emotionless. If his dark hair thinned much more he would be almost skeletal in appearance.

"It's okay, Colonel." Flagg said. "For what we are getting ready to do we needed a seventh man. Admiral Dyson has been a trusted friend to most of us over the years."

"I understand your mistrust, Colonel." Dyson said in a quiet voice. "I am fully briefed on the whole cobra affair. So feel free to speak freely."

"We are about to go completely black, Clay." Colton told his star pupil. "The President is close to butchering our entire military's budget. Possibly worse than that idiot Carter."

"Worse he appears uninterested in defense at all." Austin Continued. "We have to act quickly before things get out of hand."

"With all do respect," Hawk told them. "I will not do anything illegal."

"And we're not asking you to." Colby told him.

"In 1984 President Reagan issued an order to prevent a President from completely cutting off our ability to operate." Flagg said. "This order is so secret that it is known to only a handful of officers in the Special Warfare community. It states that an advisory panel of seven senior officers can, in times of emergency, form a unit that does not answer to the chain of command."

"This is why I was invited," Dyson smiled tightly.

Caracas, Venezuela 2:20PM Venezuelan Standard Time

The Bombardier Global Express XRS business jet taxied into a private hanger of the small airport just outside the city. Two men in dark gray suits with crimson red ties pulled the door down to reveal the built in steps as two more rolled a short ramp up. Another two men, dressed the same as the others, exited and the six stood at attention; three on each side of the ramp. A Japanese man dressed in a well tailored white suit came next, followed by a woman who's expensive black business suit was only slightly less dark than her long hair. Two more men in gray suits and red ties followed.

"The cars are ready, Baroness." One of the men said as she reached the floor.

"Excellent," She smiled at the man. "How many men are on site?"

"Two other Guardsmen and a platoon of Vipers. We have two flanking vehicles to protect your limo."

"Fine. You will take Storm Shadow and myself to the estate first."

"Yes, Baroness. The Commander has requested that Storm Shadow contact him as soon as we reach the estate."

"Then let's not keep the Commander waiting," Storm Shadow smiled. Enjoying the bitter look on the Baroness' face.

Indian Ocean, just off the coast of South Africa 8:50PM South African Standard Time

The combat rubber raiding craft quickly floated up from the submerged USS Virginia, the lead boat of her line of attack submarines. Ten men swam up to the raft, with six stripping off their LAR V closed circuit rebreathers and fins and handing them to the other four. The four swam back to the sub as the others climbed aboard the raft.

Stalker fired the motor up and guided the CRRC forward as the others got their gear ready. They traveled six miles before putting to shore on one of the few empty sections of South Africa's coast, south of Durban. They unloaded the raft and hid it as well as they could, with Duke marking the location on his GPS.

Snake Eyes shouldered his pack and took the lead, setting a slow pace into the darkness. After going five miles they discovered Hawk's present. The Land Rover sat under a camo net that they quickly pulled off and packed up. Finding the extra gear inside, they climbed in and began driving north.

The Pentagon 2:55PM EST

"Your unit will be almost entirely self contained, with only occasional support from the other services."

Flagg told Colonel Abernathy. "You're to give us a list of what equipment you'll need by the end of the month."

"Intel will be a little trickier." Dyson said. "Another reason I'm here. I have back doors into the computers at CIA, the FBI, NSA and SOCOM. You'll have access to what they have as well as our satellites. You won't be able to retask those, of course."

"Your personnel will be taken from all branches." Flagg continued. "Whatever specialists you think you need. You have the files on who we think are best suited. Actual selection is up to you. Try keeping it as small as possible. We'll need that list by the end of the month as well."

"Your headquarters will be known only to you, General Flagg and Myself." Colton said. "You remember that baby sitting job we had in '89? It's been empty since then. As of last month it has disappeared completely from our records."

"I remember, sir." Hawk said as he thought back to the old missile base.

"I thought you would. The location is a complete dead zone. There's no way your team would get connected to it."

"All personnel will have their identities removed from the public record." Austin said. "This operation will require the utmost secrecy. Details will even be compartmentalized among us. To prevent any type of inquiry."

South Africa, 9:30PM SAST

They parked the Land Rover three miles away and unloaded the gear. Flint and Snake Eyes went ahead to scout as the others started off at a slower pace. The shrub forest tapered out into maize fields that were being overtaken by weeds. They stopped at a small hillock slightly less than a mile north of a small farm. Bazooka and Duke began setting up a 60mm mortar as Breaker checked over their LASH radios.

Flint, Stalker and Snake Eyes made their way to the opposite side of the farm, all armed with two M72A7 LAW rocket launchers. Breaker watched them through the night vision scope of his suppressed M-110 sniper rifle. As the three took their positions Duke started a radio check.

Duke and Bazooka were manning the mortar with Breaker as their spotter. Stalker had taken position east of the farm. He was armed with a M4 carbine and M203 grenade launcher, as well as the rocket launchers. Snake Eyes was on the south side, armed with a M4 and his customary UZI slung over his shoulder. Flint was to the west and had a M4 and a Mossberg 590 shotgun.

After the radio check all three men knelt and set the rocket launchers on the ground. Breaker checked

the farm, finding two men armed with AK-47's on the roof of the main house. He read distance off to Bazooka who estimated his range as he aimed the mortar.

"This is Breaker," he said over the radios. "I have positive identification on one of the suspects. The mission is go."

Caracas, Venezuela 3:00PM VST

The estate was a private mansion surrounded by an imposing wall. At the main gate were four men in blue suits, though obviously armed. Two others watched the rear gate. Besides the normal cameras and motion sensors were several two man viper patrols, in full uniform and armed with FN F2000 assault rifles.

Inside it was obvious that the owner was immensely wealthy. The beauty was lost on the woman waiting impatiently by the door.

"Tonight, after meeting with McCullen at his castle, I have small assignment for you." Cobra Commander told Storm Shadow over the communications screen. "The Headman has decided that the cost of doing business with us is not to his liking. You are to convince him that it is in his best interest to continue our association. Kill his personal guards and relay to him that I look forward to continuing our partnership."

"Yes Commander," Storm Shadow said quickly and turned to leave as the screen went dark.

"Everything is well, I trust?" The Baroness asked as he joined her.

"The Commander just has a small assignment for me while we're here, Baroness."

"Anything I can help with?" She asked, distrust spreading across her face.

"Just a small thing as I said." Storm Shadow said, not letting the smile at the Baroness' discomfort show. She was still upset at Storm's rapid rise to the Commander's side. "It won't hold up our departure tomorrow."

The Pentagon 3:50PM EST

"One last thing before you leave, Colonel." Flagg said as Hawk stood before them. General Flagg walked over and handed him a small box. "A colonel will have trouble commanding the amount of authority this operation calls for. So congratulations on your promotion General Abernathy."

"Long overdo if you ask me," Austin grunted.

"It becomes official tomorrow. But we thought you could use a chance to get used to it." Flagg told him.

"Thank you sir," Hawk said trying not to show his surprise.

"You have a lot of work to do General," Colton said as he smiled. "Remember, we need everything by the end of the month."

South Africa 11:20PM SAST

The first 60mm mortar shell impacted just in front of the farm house, creating a small crater and causing havoc among the occupants. A second shell hit the front of the house twenty-three seconds later. Then it began raining shells as Duke loaded the mortar as fast as Bazooka could aim. The twenty rounds smashed the farmstead and left it burning. Duke grabbed his M4/M203 combo as Bazooka picked up his M249 SAW and ran for the farm.

After giving the occupants a moment to recover, three 66mm rockets launched into what was left standing. Seconds later a second barrage hit the farm. Then five men charged from all directions, quickly taking down any survivors.

Caracas, Venezuela 5:15PM VST

The road continued as the tropical forest stopped. They had seen the surveillance photos but still were stunned by the ancient castle rising up from the Venezuelan hillside. The limo stopped at a guardhouse manned by a squad of Anglo soldiers dressed in traditional Scottish uniforms, including kilt and bonnet. A moment later they were waved through and continued another half mile to the main entrance. They were waived through and the limo stopped at a wide and steep set of stairs leading to the manor house. Two squads stood at attention in rows leading from the door to the bottom step. A black and gold carpet ran down the steps between the two squads.

Two men dressed in traditional uniforms walked down the steps, the youngest opened the door to the limo. Storm Shadow climbed out, did a quick check and motioned the Baroness to follow.

"Welcome to Castle Destro, Baroness De Cobray." The older man said. "I'm Sergeant Major Dobbie of the 7th Highland Grenadiers."

"Impressive," The Baroness said looking around. The squads at attention wore the modern black uniforms of the Iron Grenadier, including black body armor and medieval style helmet and face mask. Security cameras were set up to allow no blind spots and she was certain weapons were trained on them all.

"Yes, mum. Laird McCullen had it shipped here stone by stone from his ancestral home. My Laird asks if you both would like to discuss business over dinner. Though he is perfectly willing to handle this transaction before dining."

"My colleague has other business tonight so we would prefer to settle this as quickly as possible."

"Of course. I will escort you to the Lairds office. Your guards can wait in the main hall."

South Africa 11:45PM SAST

"Eight bodies in all, Stalker." Flint said after they checked the wreckage. "No sign of Cristi."

"He either skipped on us or this was a coincidence." Stalker said as he hit the call button on his LASH headset. "Yo Breaker, you scanning the friendlies?"

"Yeah, they either haven't been alerted or they're ignoring this." Breaker told him.

"Roger, keep listening. Let's give it one more check and pack up. I want us at sea before sunrise."

Castle Destro, Venezuela 5:25PM VST

The Sergeant Major escorted his two guests to a large oak door. He rang a buzzer and then opened the large door as it clicked.

"Sir your guests. The Baroness Anastasia De Cobray and Mr. Thomas Arashikage. This is James McCullen, twenty-fourth Laird of Castle Destro."

"Thank you Sergeant Major," McCullen said as he stood up. "That will be all for now."

"Very good, Sir." And with a salute he left, the door shutting behind him.

"Welcome, can I interest you in something to drink?" McCullen asked as he bowed to his guests.

"No thank you," The Baroness said as she studied the him, realizing that he had a gun holstered beneath his tailored blue jacket. "We are only here a short time and have much to do."

"Then to business," McCullen said as he motioned for the two to take seats. "Have a seat and lets talk." He walked back and sat down behind his very old oak desk. Behind him was a display case of medieval weaponry, the center piece a claymore sword and a rusting iron mask.

"So what can I get for you?"

"We're looking to replace our existing armament. At the moment we need one thousand assault rifles five hundred carbines, one hundred light machine guns, one hundred medium machine guns and fifty light anti-tank weapons. Also we are aware of your XGG-96 and would be interested in purchasing a few of the prototypes."

McCullen hit a few keys on the computer on his desk. "Let's see, that's a large shipment. I can give you twelve hundred FAMAS G2 which have changeable barrels to make it a carbine, assault and sniper rifle. It's 5.56mm of course. I can round those out with 300 Beretta SCP-70/90 carbines, also in 5.56. I have 200 Vektor SS-77 machine guns. They're 7.62mm but I'll throw in a hundred mini-SS conversion kits. That will change the caliber to 5.56 and shorten and lighten the gun for squad use. In my humble opinion this is one of the best machine guns out there. But I can find something else if you prefer."

"Your selections are fine. What about the heavy weapons?"

"The LAWs I can give you a mix of disposable and core systems. I have ten XGG prototypes available, at a million and a half each. I should warn you, we still haven't gotten their weight down to a manageable size. At least for a normal soldier."

"That part is not a problem. How soon can the shipment be delivered?"

"I'd say it would take four shipments, the first could be sent in a week. Payment is due before each shipment. Here is the account for the transaction and the amount." McCullen printed out a slip of paper and handed it to her.

"That will be fine. I was also told to ask about your High Intensity Scout System and STUN cars."

"Both are still in design, but we should have working models within three months. I do have some former Soviet light tanks available if you need an armor option now."

"I will discuss that with my employer. Thank you for your time."

"Thank you for your business. If you two would like to dine with me, my chef has done an excellent job of turning the local ingredients into something civilized."

"Once again, thank you. But I'm afraid we have more business to attend to."

"Of course." McCullen smiled as he noticed Storm Shadow glance at the weapons display for the seventh time since they arrived. "You are curious about the sword, Mr. Arashikage?"

"Yes," He said. "It looks formidable."

"At one time it was. Now it is next to worthless. That has been the blade of the Laird Destro for seven hundred years. Last used in battle in 1811 by the eighteenth Laird. The mask above it belonged to the the ninth Laird, my namesake. The French placed it on him as punishment for selling to both sides. That was in 1641 I believe. We keep it as a reminder."

"A reminder not to deal to both sides?" Storm asked.

"A reminder not to get caught," McCullen laughed. "The Sergeant Major is here to escort you out. Good evening to you both."

South Africa 11:55PM SAST

They started back up the hill when the gunfire erupted. Bazooka was caught in the chest and Duke pulled him down as the others took cover. Eight men in red and gray camo with red body armor charged out of tunnels in the forest. Seventeen more wearing blue came from behind the farm, surrounding the team.

Duke, Flint and Snake Eyes began returning fire as Stalker worked on Bazooka. Three of the men in blue and one of the others went down before the attack stalled.

"Shit," Duke muttered as the Crimson Guardsman scrambled away. "Heads up, the ones in red are wearing body armor. Not sure how our carbines are going to work."

"Breaker give me a head count!" Stalker shouted over the lash as he continued to test his medic training.

"Breaker you read me?" He called a minute later wen he didn't get a response. "Boys, Breaker is out of contact. We may be on our own."

Caracas Venezuela 11:55PM VST

It was not the tallest building in Caracas' business district, but it was definitely one of the most lavish. No one noticed the Japanese man come in with the late night cleaning crew. He entered the elevator with the same crew, but stayed on as they exited. When the doors opened at the next level he was gone.

The Headman's living quarters is on the top floor. Office and guard station on the floor below. Storm Shadow thought as he climbed the elevator cable. Sensors on the elevator doors on both floors. Eight of his personal guard, called headhunters between the elevator and the door to the targets suite. Should be armed with MP5s and handguns, all veterans of the Venezuelan Army.

He reached the top and peered through a vent above the elevator doors. Eight guards stood in the narrow hall way. Good kill zone, he thought. Definitely not amateurs. Cameras faced the doors and two more faced the suite door.

Eight guards, plus two on the other side of that door. The Headman had come up with one of his newer escorts two hours early and should be occupied or asleep, Storm shook his head at the thought of what he may have to see.

Storm Shadow checked the maintenance hatch above his head. Sloppy, they wired the doors but not this. He pushed the door up and pulled himself into the crawl space. Drop ceiling, he shook his head again. And no cameras up here, maybe I was wrong about their not being amateurs.

He crawled forward slowly, careful to keep his weight on the frame and not the tiles. The drop ceiling ended at the suite, but a ventilation shaft ran through it. Noticing a space above the shaft he climbed up and crawled along it.

Another drop ceiling, he thought after crawling a few feet. This guy was begging for this to happen. Remembering the layout he climbed off the shaft and crawled to the far left. Storm pulled up a ceiling tile and peaked through.

The Headman slept in a huge bed, a rather attractive Hispanic girl slept beside him. She looks fifteen, Storm thought, disgusted. He dropped down to the soft carpet and walked over to the bed. A gun sat in a holster on the bedside table and Storm pocketed it.

"Huh," the Headman mumbled as he came awake; feeling something cold across his throat. He came fully awake as he saw a man dressed in white standing over him.

"Shh," Storm Shadow whispered as he pushed the sword against the drug lords neck. "We don't want to wake the girl." He looked down at the short, fat, greasy man and moved the sword just enough to draw blood.

"What do you want?" The Headman asked quietly, feeling a trickle of blood slide down his neck.

"I come from Cobra. We wish to continue our arrangement and have heard you are having second thoughts. This of course must be a misunderstanding. Am I right?"

"Cobra is bringing the wrong kind of attention to me. With the Mexican cartels at war it isn't safe to be public."

"You stand to lose more by not cooperating." Storm told him sheathing his sword. "I'm a reminder that you will be held to your obligations."

"Headhunters!" The Headman yelled as he saw the man put his weapon away. Storm Shadow smiled as he heard the guards running toward him.

The two men rushed through the door and Storm threw a throwing knife into the throat of the first. The second raised his gun and Storm swept one of his swords up and jabbed it through his chest. He turned as heard the girl scream and saw the Headman holding her in front of him as he radioed the other guards.

"Pathetic," he snarled as he heard the outer doors burst open. He leaped up into the ceiling as all eight guards rushed in.

"What's happening?" The lead guard asked as Storm Shadow dropped behind them. Twin swords thrust through two guards backs and then Storm was among them, a ninja-to in each hand. He slashed one across the chest and another across the throat. The leader raised his gun and Storm threw a sword, the blade spearing through his heart; causing the mans trigger finger to tighten and fire a short burst, wounding another guard.

Storm Shadow kicked one of the men as his sword sliced through another. Then he drew the Headman's pistol and shot the the wounded man and the one he kicked. He tossed the gun to the floor and pulled his sword from the one guard, sheathing both blades.

"You have been warned," He told the Headman and calmly walked out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force** Chapter 7

Fort Bragg, North Carolina June 10, 2011

"At ease Stalker," General Hawk said as the tall black man entered his office. "You usually aren't this formal."

"You usually aren't wearing stars, General."

"These things? They're so new the shine hasn't worn off yet."

"A star is a star, new has nothing to do with it." Stalker said as Hawk motioned for him to set down. Hawk noticed that Stalker winced slightly as he took his seat.

"Still raw?"

"Not to bad," Stalker told him. "Just a big bruise."

"Good, because I have a lot for you to do. Let's start with your report."

"Yes Sir," Stalker frowned as he started. "The infil went as planned. We left the Virginia via a CRRC and made landfall. The Land Rover was where you said it would be and we quickly made it to the farm. Breaker confirmed the bad guys were on site and we set up. Duke and Bazooka manned the mortar with Breaker as a spotter. The rest of us surrounded the farm."

"At precisely 23:20 they launched twenty shells onto the camp. We followed that up with six LAW rockets and Snake, Flint, Duke, Bazooka and I hit the place. We finished off the survivors and checked the camp. Cristi was nowhere to be found..."

Unknown Location in the Western Hemisphere

"Report Guardsman XI." Cobra Commander hissed from his throne. His perfectly detailed plan had not gone right and he wanted answers.

"We set up in the tunnels around the farm as instructed. My squad and two platoons of Vipers were ready for the ambush. Crystal Ball was stationed behind the assault site with two vipers." The Crimson Guardsman said as he stood stiffly, dressed in gray and red fatigues and helmet and face mask.

"And you're telling me that forty Vipers and ten of my Crimson Guard were no match for six men?"

"We didn't count on the mortar." The Guardsman explained. "They hammered the area with 60mm and what sounded like rockets. The tunnel system started collapsing and we were forced to withdraw. I lost two Guardsmen and less than half the Vipers made it to the secondary staging area. By then Crystal Ball had reported that he had taken out the over watch and the five remaining were starting to exit.

"I ordered the Vipers to come from the back and we assaulted them out in the open with a pincher movement. The biggest of them was hit hard before they took cover..."

Fort Bragg, NC

"Bazooka was hit hard and I worked on him as the others returned fire," Stalker continued. "The men in gray and red had body armor and our M4's were not very effective. We were fortunate they didn't use explosives, my assumption is they wanted prisoners."

"It makes sense," Hawk nodded. "they were probably wondering who has been hitting them."

"I attempted to make contact with Breaker but received no response. By then the team had stalled the attack but we were surrounded by twenty or more hostiles. Duke helped me bandage Bazooka, both of us knew he wasn't going to make it without immediate evac. It was then that we noticed Snake Eyes had disappeared..."

Unknown location,

"We had them pinned down for a few moments when we noticed that we were only getting return fire from three locations." Crimson Guardsman XI went on, feeling uncomfortable with the Commander's scrutiny. "By then I had split us into seven teams, one Guardsman and two vipers. Guardsman XXII had been wounded and I had him withdraw to Crystal Balls position. I placed Guardsmen XIV and XXV between the targets and there staging area.

"Nervous about the missing hostile I did a radio check. That was a mistake on my part. I believe I gave away their positions. Afterward we found Guardsman XXV's team. They had been killed quickly and silently. Guardsman XXV had his neck broken; the two Viper's were knifed."

"Guardsman XIV lived long enough to give a description. He said that the attack occurred less than four minutes after radio check. One of his Vipers made a noise and he turned toward him; just in time to see this man," He showed a drawing of Snake Eyes made from the description," pull a knife from the Viper and drop him to the ground."

"Guardsman XIV raised his gun and fired but the masked man was already gone. He tried to locate the other Viper, but he had already been killed. XIV started to go to cover when he felt that someone was behind him. He turned and the man kicked the rifle from his hands..."

Fort Bragg, NC

"Deciding that I was useless to the team pinned down I left to scout an escape route." Hawk read from the report "My initial count was twenty-two hostiles. Assuming they were split into teams and spread out around us, I scouted the most direct path to Breaker's location. I had no luck until I heard a murmur and investigated. One of the men in gray uniforms had responded to a radio check. He was with two of the men in blue."

"I quickly dispatched them and headed east. Fortunately I was in time for the other's radio check and located the same set up. I dispatched the two men in blue, though the second made a slight noise which alerted the gray man. He opened fire as I dove into a small hollow. I circled around him, but he somehow guessed my presence and turned. I quickly disarmed him and he tackled me. He had decent hand to hand skills but nothing extraordinary and I dispatched him with my knife."

"After doing a quick check between the two groups I determined I had made a hole large enough for us to maneuver through. I then returned to Stalker..." Hawk finished reading and set the report down. "This was Snake Eyes' after action report. Quick and precise as is normal for him."

"He left an ambush without being seen and killed six men without firing a shot" Stalker shook his head. "I'm glad he's on our side."

"What happened after he returned?" Hawk asked.

"Snake Eyes had been back a minute before we noticed him. He alerted me of the opening and I planned to stay and cover their escape. That's when Bazooka let us know he was conscious. I remember his exact words. 'Stalker, you get the guys out of here. I know I'm a goner, I heard you and Duke talking. I got enough left to keep their heads down. Just hand me my SAW.'"

Stalker paused for a moment before continuing. "I tried to argue with him but he wasn't about to let me win. So we said our goodbyes and tossed all the smoke grenades we had as he opened up. Snake lead the way and we followed at a full run. I turned my head just in time to see one of the men in gray aim at me..."

Unknown location,

"After your Crimson Guardsman informed us it was time," Crystal Ball giggled, "I and my two Vipers attacked the lone man with the sniper rifle. The man turned as a Viper grabbed him and shot the Viper with a hand gun. The other Viper hit the man from behind and knocked him unconscious. I checked the man over and found no identification, though I did get a photo."

"Which we have not been able to match yet," the Commander hissed. "Did you learn anything from him?"

"I had just began to work on him when the Guardsman showed up and asked for an update. I told him all was well and he left. Sadly that gave the man time to recover and he gouged my eyes. I didn't see what happened next, but then the man was armed. The Viper shoved me down the hill and sacrificed himself for me..."

Fort Bragg, NC

"How's the shoulder, Breaker?" Hawk asked as he sat next to the hospital bed.

"Doctor Greer said it should heal up fine, General." Breaker said as he tried to sit up a little.

"Stay where you're at, I need you healthy."

"Yes Sir."

"So tell me what happened when Stalker lost contact with you?"

"I was watching the team come up the hill when I heard a noise. I started to turn and was grabbed from my right. I grabbed my M9, that I always set next to me in case of something like this, and shot some guy in blue. I leaped to my feet and saw Cristi in front of me. Then I was hit from behind."

"I came to with Cristi hovering over me. My jacket had been removed and that wacko jammed a knife into my left shoulder and twisted it. He didn't ask any questions, he just knelt there giggling. He was digging in my shoulder when someone else arrived. Cristi walked away to talk. I couldn't hear what was said but Cristi soon returned."

"He reached for the knife again but I was ready and gouged his eyes. I yanked the knife from my shoulder and stood up as the Viper rushed me. I was able to take him out with the knife but Cristi ran off."

"After making sure the Viper was dead I grabbed my M-110 and checked on the team. I saw four of them running toward me and swept to cover them. That's when I saw the man aiming at Stalker. I shot him and continued sweeping."

"I was watching Bazooka when he ran out of ammo and was charged by four guys. He took one out with his pistol but the others emptied their clips into him..."

Unknown location,

"We were crawling forward when the smoke grenades went off." The Viper said as he stood at attention in front of the Crimson Guardsman. "Next thing we know, bullets are flying everywhere. I hugged the ground as tightly as I could until the firing stopped and Guardsman XIX ordered us forward. We charged the location to find a huge guy trying to draw his pistol. He shot Viper-eleven and we killed him."

"Guardsman XI rallied what was left of us, which I believe was five Guardsmen and eight Vipers. He had us form a scrimmage line and head after the escapees..."

Fort Bragg, NC

"Bazooka and I had a fishing trip planned," Duke said as he took a moment to think about his comrade. "He was excited about finally making it to Table Rock Lake."

"He did enjoy his fishing," Hawk smiled sadly. "The only time he seemed excited was when he was talking about it. Especially catching walleye at Waverly Lake."

"I swear that fish grew three inches every time he told that story." Duke laughed. "Sorry to get off subject Sir."

"That's okay Duke. Just continue where you left off."

"We made it to Breaker in time to see him look away from his scope. None of us had to ask if it was Bazooka. Stalker did a quick patch job as Flint watched through Breakers M-110. He informed us the bad guys were on the way and Snake Eyes motioned for us to go while he slowed them down."

"Stalker started to argue when I said I'd stay too. I told him to get the Rover warmed up and we be right behind them. He gave Snake his M4/M203 and they started off as I took photos of the two dead men and propped them up so they looked like defenders. While I was doing this Snake Eyes had rigged the mortar tube with C4 and motioned to the tree line."

"We waited with loaded grenade launchers as the hostiles came up to the spot. Snake hit the detonator and we both launched two volleys of grenades. Then we started laying down fire, using a leap frog maneuver to withdraw. As soon as we put some distance behind us we hightailed it to the Land Rover. Stalker was ready when we got there and it was no time until we were back out to sea and rendezvousing with the Virginia..."

Unknown location,

"The explosion ended it for us. It took out four men and threw several of us to the ground." Crimson Guardsman XI said. "Then the grenades came, followed by enough bullets to keep us down. By the time we regrouped and followed, they were gone. We found a Land Rover abandoned by the coast and are assuming that is what they used. We couldn't find anything on the vehicle. Though the SAS are fond of that style."

"What was the final casualty report?" The Commander asked shaking his head.

"After freeing everyone who was trapped five Guardsmen were killed and two wounded and nineteen Vipers were killed to eleven wounded. All eight of our allies were killed."

"And your evaluation of our opponents?"

"Professionals. They knew they were walking into a trap and planned accordingly. The man we killed had no identification and we have so far been unable to discover his identity. The masked man is especially dangerous. He killed six of us without firing a shot or alerting us to his presence."

"You are dismissed Guardsman XI. There will be no repercussions for your failure at this time."

"Yes Commander."

Fort Bragg, NC

"So, give me your evaluation." Hawk said to the man sitting across from him.

"They were well trained," Flint said. "Especially the ones in gray and red. They seemed to be in charge and used the others as cannon fodder. They only used light armaments so I'd say Stalker's assessment that they wanted prisoners were correct."

"I believe the mortar attack was the only thing that saved us. They seemed disorganized when they hit us; even though they had to be hiding there the whole time. Their armaments were FN F2000 assault rifles and the ones in gray had pretty advanced body armor. Our 5.56 didn't penetrate it."

"Any suggestions?"

"We need to go to a larger bullet. Also we need air support to counter the numbers these men have."

"Air support is tricky in friendly nations, Flint. But we'll see what we can do. Get some rest. Tomorrow we start planning for the future."

Los Angeles, CA

"I am here, Commander." The Baroness said as she rushed into the communications room.

"You did well Baroness." Cobra Commander said over the communications screen. "Your on schedule everywhere but America and Mr. McCullen will deliver the first shipment this week."

"Thank you Commander. As soon as I receive more men; the America stage will be ready."

"You will have to make do with what you have. I'm not risking anymore men. As long as you hit the main targets, everything will be fine."

"I have enough for those. Should I begin phase two?"

"Yes Baroness. We are less than a year from our plans finally reaching fruition. Continue to please us and you will have a place among the new order."


	9. Chapter 9

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force **Chapter 8

Sierra Nevada Mountains July 15, 2011

Stalker drove the M998 Truck High Mobility Multipurpose Vehicle along the winding road through the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Hawk was in the passenger seat of the humvee; with Duke and Dial-Tone in the back.

"You sure we're on the right road?" Stalker asked five minutes after the GPS stopped working.

"You're fine, Stalker." Hawk said as he tried matching landmarks to his memories of over twenty years ago. He was surprised at how little things had changed since he, and then Colonel Colton, had been here. "This is the only road through here so we're not lost."

"I'll take your word for it," Stalker said as he moved as far to the side as he could get to let an Army truck convoy through.

"At least he's not asking if we're there yet," Duke said.

"I was saving that for when you said you have to go to the bathroom."

Hawk just shook his head and concentrated on the road. He saw the odd looking sharp curve sign and turned to Stalker.

"At this bend up ahead there's a dirt road. Hang a right there."

"Roger that," Stalker said as he slowed up. As the road curved he saw a tiny road heading uphill between two huge rocks. He turned and started driving up, the humvee shaking on the rough road.

"There's a split coming up," Hawk said. "Stay to the right and head down the mountain."

Stalker drove another mile before he found the road forking. The road to the right had a no exit sign but he continued on as Hawk had told him. The road narrowed and curved down the mountain for a mile until they came to a road ends sign. Stalker started slowing the humvee.

"Keep going." Hawk told him as he entered a code into the box on the dash.

Stalker kept going until he saw where a rock slide had covered the road. He started to say something to Hawk when the road in front of him rose open, lifting the rock pile and revealing a tunnel. He kept driving into the inky blackness until he saw a bank of red lights ahead.

"You can stop now," Hawk said as he pushed another button on the box. Stalker had just come to a stop when lights flashed on around him. He, Duke and Dial-Tone looked around in awe at the gigantic cavern stretching around them.

They were parked in the center of a huge concrete parking lot, complete with parking spots lined in different colors. To one side were several loading docks, the other just a blank rock wall. The cavern stretched upward fifty feet, with several bridges crossing overhead. In front of them were a series of elevator doors of varying sizes.

"Welcome to your new home," Hawk said as they started to recover. "We need to take inventory and see what we're going to need."

Unknown location in the Western Hemisphere July 22, 2011

The sterile white room was different than when Cobra Commander had last stepped into it, over a year ago. At the far end was what looked like a MRI machine on steroids. A control room for the device had been built to one side of it. Along each wall were twenty hospital beds, all occupied by sleeping men.

"How does this work, Mindbender?" Cobra Commander asked as he was escorted to the center of the room. Dr. Mindbender and Dr. Venom flanked the Commander as Storm Shadow trailed quietly behind them.

"The serum mainly effects the parietal lobe of the brain." Mindbender said as they approached one of the patients. "It increases the speed that the subject processes sensory input, giving them reactions similar to that of a normal person touching a hot surface. Also they receive an enhanced sense of touch. Thanks to mutation of the temporal and occipital lobes the subject's hearing and vision is enhanced, though for an unknown reason they become color blind. Then the pituitary gland is jump started which causes the subject to become bigger and stronger. Such as the man before you who has grown three inches and gained twenty pounds."

"But are they controllable?" The Commander asked as he looked down at the bulging form of what had once been a missionary in Central America.

"Yes, thanks to the brainwave scanner and several side effects of the serum." Dr. Venom sneered. "The frontal lobe is particularly hard hit. The subject loses all sense of emotion, initiative, problem solving, creative thinking, judgment and his personality becomes a complete blank. The subject also loses his sense of smell but his coordination and physical reactions are enhanced."

"Once the subject completes his treatments we use the brainwave scanner to input new memories linking his will to Cobra." Venom continued. "He will be obedient, loyal and uncompromising. The only downside is he will need to be directed closely."

"These are the only side effects?" The Commander asked, impressed at what he was looking at.

"The thalamus has been enhanced to increase the subjects ability to process his reactions," Mindbender continued. "This is at the expense of his ability to process pain. The hypothalamus is completely shut down forcing us to artificially regulate the hormones his body needs. This has the positive side effect of the subject losing the sensations of hunger, thirst, temperature and keeps him from experiencing mood swings."

"And survivability?" The Commander asked as Venom and Mindbender looked nervously at each other.

"Only six of the initial forty subjects survived."Mindbender said nervously. "We're not sure of the reasons yet. It could be anything from the physical and emotional shape of the captives to the dosage of the serum."

"The new group is getting the serum at lower levels," Venom added hastily.

"Fifteen percent is not satisfactory, Doctors." The Commander hissed. "If I am to convince my Vipers to volunteer for this I need at least an eight percent survivability."

"This is only the first batch, Commander." Doctor Mindbender told him. "I assure you we will have everything worked out on schedule."

"Might I make a suggestion Commander?" Doctor Venom asked.

"Instead of using captives for our next batch," Venom continued when Cobra Commander nodded, "we should use some of our convicts slated for execution. Give them the opportunity to volunteer in exchange for amnesty. It would be easier to solve our problems if we have a broader group of test subjects."

"The idea has merit," the Commander said thoughtfully. "Their pasts are meaningless after the procedure anyway. I will inform the warden of your request."

"Thank you, Commander." Both men said simultaneously.

"One more thing, Doctor Venom." The Commander said. "Could I use the scanner to overwrite a normal person's memories?"

"No Commander," Venom told him. "At least not currently. I tried this with an amnesia victim Dr. Burkhart brought to me. She wanted me to try to restore his memories; the fool. He was a blank slate in terms of who he was, but the scanner was not able to add memories. I also tried to alter his perceptions and ethics, but the scanner still couldn't overwrite the core of who he is."

"Yet it works on the test subjects?"

"Yes," Mindbender answered. "Unlike with amnesia, the serum physically transforms the subject's brain. In essence you have a newborn who you can mold into whatever you wish."

"I see," the Commander said. "What about using it for interrogation?"

"That is possible," Venom said. "For reading minds it works much like hypnosis. You have to lead the subject to the memories you want to see. And it is dependent on the subjects willpower. If you would like, I can build one for that purpose."

"For the moment concentrate on this. The subjects are integral to the upcoming operation. You both have done excellent work here. I look forward to seeing the final results." The Commander turned to leave. "Come Storm Shadow, we still have much to do today."

Fort Bragg, North Carolina August 1, 2011

"So here's the deal, Flint." Hawk said from behind his desk. "First Strike, a militia group in Montana, may be receiving funding and training from outside sources. I need you to check it out. You're to remain undetected and are to engage only as a last resort. You will be on your own for this. Breaker is not fully recovered yet, I need Duke and Stalker to assist in the expansion and Snake Eyes is undergoing more surgery in Switzerland."

"What exactly will I be looking for, Sir?" Flint asked.

"That's the real question here. Preferably a known bad guy assisting them. Or weapons and equipment they should not have." Hawk handed a file to Flint. "Don't underestimate these people. The founders, Vance Wingfield and Shelton Carruthers are both former Marines. Wingfield was a Gunny in Force Recon and Carruthers a captain and aviator. Wingfield's wife, Shary, was a decorated member of the Montana State Police. There will be fifteen to twenty men on site; along with some family members. Most of the men have little to no combat training, except for what they are currently being taught."

"Most of?" Flint asked as he read through the file.

"There are two other Marines, buddies of Wingfield. One of them is a sniper. Another of the men was Military Police before he went AWOL."

"So no backup at all?"

"The FBI have been investigating them for years. Currently an agent named O'Hara is in charge of the investigation. That's the best I can do for you now."

"When do I leave?"

"Tonight. We'll issue you a Husky to fly to Billings. The FBI will meet you and give you a heads up on the situation. Keep it tight with them. You never know who you can trust. Speak only to O'Hara. I have it on good authority that she's trustworthy. Her bio is in the file."

Billings, MT August 2, 2011

Flint taxied the Aviat A-1 Husky down the runway of the private federal airport. He backed the two seat, single engine plain into the spot he was directed and started shutting it down. Two FBI agents approached him; a nondescript older man and a tall woman with bright red hair.

"Warrant Officer Flint?" The red head asked.

"That's me," Flint said. "Agent O'Hara?"

"Yes. This is Agent Reynolds."

Flint nodded at the agent as he pulled a duffel bag from the plane.

"We'll take you to our Bureau office first." Agent O'Hara told him. "Unless you have somewhere else you have to go?"

"Your office is fine," Flint said. He was being noncommittal on purpose. Partly because Hawk told him to speak only to her and partly just to see how frustrated the pretty young Agent could become. As he sat down in the backseat of the white Chevy Suburban he tried remembering what was in her file. Shana Mae O'Hara, youngest of five, father was a former staff sergeant in the 82cd Airborne, earned dual degrees in law and political science from Emory University by her eighteenth birthday, Joined the Marines and qualified as a sniper before joining the FBI.

The drive was thirty minutes of mostly silence, which irritated Shana O'Hara. All her attempts at conversation had resulted in short answers before she finally quit. Fortunately Marine Sniper School had taught her patience and she kept smiling at the soldier. The call the night before had come directly from the Office of the Director, skipping the regional office and sidestepping the chain of command. She was told to meet a soldier named Flint, who was on a need to know mission, and give him any support he needed. The lack of information on this soldier had quickly made up her mind that she was either being set up or tested.

"So what can we help you with?" She asked after escorting him to her office and shutting the door.

"I need to get to the First Strike camp and look around for a few days," Flint told her after deciding he was allowed to be civil now.

"They won't just let you walk in." Shana answered. "These guys are fanatics with quite a few disappearances linked to them."

"I don't need inside. I just need to take a few photos. Trust me I'm good at not being seen." Flint shot her a smug grin that had melted the hearts of multiple Ivy League girls in the past.

"I'm sure you are," Shana answered trying to figure out his cheesy grin. He wasn't bad looking but seemed way to full of himself to impress her. "What do you need from us?"

"Maps, transportation and blue prints of the structures if you have them. And some place to grab a few hours sleep."

"We have some rooms in the back for visiting agents. I'll have Reynolds escort you while I hunt up your information. You can meet me here around two."

Just outside Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area

Flint had parked the old nondescript pickup the FBI had given him and covered it with a camo net. He then had walked the ten miles to the First Strike compound, dressed in hunters camouflaged coveralls to look like a hunter if spotted. It was dark by the time he made it to the outskirts of the compound and he slowly worked his way to the location he had picked out on the map.

Agent O'Hara was as good as her word. Supplying him with multiple maps of the compound and surrounding area. She had even given him an estimated drawing of a tunnel complex they suspected was there after seeing truck loads of dirt hauled out.

He had pulled on a ghillie suit and lay prone, glad that the people in the compound had been professional enough to clear the site lines around the chain link fence that surrounded the seven buildings. It made his job much easier since he didn't have to creep closer. He set up the camera and telephoto lens on a short tripod then started looking through a night vision scope at the compound.


	10. Chapter 10

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Mission Force** Chapter 9

Bern, Switzerland August 4, 2011

It was a sunny summer day at the Bern Institute of Reconstructive Surgery. The weather was wasted on the three people in the examination room. Dr. Adele Burkhart stood away from the two men at the table, the short blond clasping her hands behind her back nervously. Snake Eyes sat on an examination table, his face wrapped in bandages. In front of him, Dr. Hundtkinder leaned over to unwrap his face.

Snake Eyes stared at Hundtkinder's snowy white hair as the doctor worked. The doctor's thin, agile fingers made quick work of the bandages and he stepped away to look at Snake's face. He poked and prodded around the left eye and both cheeks.

"Well Herr Peter," Hundtkinder said as he continued the examination. "It looks like the cartilage work healed nicely. Along with your jaw and and nasal cavity. The skin has comeback somewhat though muscle regeneration has been slow. The first surgery will be to rebuild your supraorbital and temporal lines around your left eye. After that we will work on rebuilding your cheeks. Fortunately your maxilla are intact and most of our work will center on the zygomatric bones."

"After that is set we will reattach the muscles and begin regenerating the muscles, nerves and vessels of your face. This will require one surgery but the regrowth will take months."

"What procedure will you use for that?" Dr. Burkhart asked out of curiosity.

"A relatively new procedure using the cells from a pig to act as an attractant to his stem cells, which will then grow the required tissue and nerves. After that he will need to come back so we can check the growth and make any alterations."

"How functional will everything be?" She asked as she studied Snake Eye's scabbed over face.

"I can't really say, Doctor." Hundtkinder replied honestly. "This is an entirely new procedure. We are hoping for a seventy percent recovery. His face will never regain full feeling or movement. As for his features..." Hundtkinder paused as he considered what to say. The nod and steady gaze from Snake Eyes convinced him to continue. "His features will never fully return. Even after the regrowth he will be disfigured. Perhaps when the healing is completed we will be able to take further measures."

Big Horn Canyon, Montana August 5, 2011

Flint nibbled at a cinnamon bun from his first strike ration. The irony of the name had become annoying by the first afternoon and he tried not to think about it. He kept one eye on the view finder of his camera as he ate, though he knew their routine by heart. Ten in the morning was weapons training for the seventeen men in camp and today was no different. Everyday they exhausted fifty rounds of ammo for their M16 rifles. After that they would straighten up the camp before lunch.

Fifteen minutes past the hour and something different happened. A Ford Explorer pulled up to the gate and was promptly let in. Flint followed the truck with his camera, snapping photographs as it went. He centered on Vance Wingfield and Shelton Carruthers, the leaders of the First Strike militia, as they walked to the truck.

Flint held his breath as the man exited the passenger door of the Explorer. It was a face he had seen years ago when on another team with Duke. He snapped more pictures, realizing he had found the evidence Hawk wanted.

"Thank you for coming," former Gunnery Sergeant Vance Wingfield said as he shook hands with the newcomer. He was an average sized man with close cut salt and pepper hair.

"No problem, mate." Major Bludd said as he shook hands with the two men. "My employers like what you're doing here and want to help in any way."

"What we really need help with is the weapons you sent us," Carruthers said. He was around six foot and thin, his head completely shaved and covered with a camouflaged baseball cap. "The tracking system is a bit more complex than what we're used to."

"That will be easy enough. The system isn't as complicated as it looks. I've also brought some more rifles to fill out you armory. A present for agreeing to take on this mission."

"Thanks again," Wingfield said. "To you and your employer. While you're here, maybe you could go over our training regimen and offer some advice?"

"Gladly," Major Bludd smiled. "Let me get squared away and we'll get right to it."

Bern, Switzerland August 5, 2011

The anesthesia put Snake Eyes under quickly. Doctor Hundtkinder and his associates went to work on him with practiced efficiency, as Doctor Burkhart watched from the observation room.

Snake Eyes was miles away from the surgery when the first incision was made. His dreams were always of events after he awoke in Paris, his memories of previous life hidden even in his sleep. Usually he dreamed of the refugee camp in Dagestan, of the flaming liquid striking his face. This time was no different.

The explosions rocked the ground as he and Dr. Burkhart ran with the kid. He sensed the mortar shell coming and pushed the doctor and girl to safety; as someone tackled him to the ground.

"That was close, Snake." The voice said as he was pulled to his knees. Snake Eyes turned his head to see the face of young Japanese man in desert camouflage.

"Tommy, Snake," He recognized Stalker's voice calling to them. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah Sarge," The Japanese..Tommy called back. "Just had to save Snake again."

Snake looked around for the doctor, and realized he wasn't in Dagestan. The hills looked familiar though and then he thought Afghanistan, though he hadn't been there since joining Hawk. He reached down and picked up a boonie hat that seemed like it belonged to him.

"You know I'm not always going to be around to save your sorry butt, Brother." Tommy said smiling. "They've got us pinned down pretty good."

Snake placed the hat on his head and started aiming down the sights of his M249 SAW. He saw Stalker, Sergeant Wilkinson, off to his side. In front of them Collins, Escobar and Sapperstein were spread out under cover. They were in a small rock strewn valley, surrounded on three sides by hills. He could see movement on the one directly in front and then the memory of this struck him. This had started as a routine patrol in the Shahi-Kot Mountains in the Spring of 2003. The Mortar attack had come out of nowhere, immediately killing three of the nine Rangers.

Big Horn Canyon, Montana

Flint had stayed still through the afternoon, taking as many pictures as he could while he waited for dark so he could slip away. Once again the militia followed routine and sent out a two man patrol to sweep the area as evening came on.

"Hell," Flint muttered as he saw a second team leave. This one had a large black dog, that looked like it was a rottweiler mix. He pulled his shotgun close as he said a silent prayer that the dog didn't catch his scent.

The two patrols circled the camp and the first went back inside. The second started to head in when the dog's stuck his nose up and started to pull his handler. The two men followed the dog as it headed in a straight line toward Flint.

"What is it Sergeant," the man without the dog said just loud enough for Flint to hear.

"Probably a rabbit," the handler said. "Stay back aways and cover me."

Flint placed his finger on the trigger of his shotgun as they came nearer. He lay perfectly still as they came within sight, the dog beginning to snarl. He raised the barrel of his gun as his eyes locked with the surprised handler.

Paktika Province, Afghanistan 2002

"Snake, give us some covering fire so we can get to that ravine!" Stalker called from his perch behind a boulder. Snake started firing in bursts as Stalker and Tommy ran forward to join the survivors of the patrol. They started firing as Sapperstein and Collins took off for the small ravine to their left.

Snake ran to Stalker and Tommy as Escobar headed to the ravine. He began firing again, covering the last two as they took off. Then he was off, dodging bullets and sliding in beside Stalker. Sapperstein, Tommy, Escobar and Collins started firing as Snake Eyes loaded a new two hundred round box into his SAW.

"Think they're out of mortar shells?" Tommy asked as he ducked down to reload. "Or did we screw up their angle?"

"Probably out," Snake Eyes said before raising up and spraying the hillside with 5.56mm bullets.

"He's right." Stalker said, after trying to raise headquarters on Escobar's radio. "Unless there's a base around here, they have to be out of shells."

"So you got a plan yet?" Snake asked as he dropped down.

"It would help to know how many are up there."

"I counted eleven."

"Fourteen," Tommy said. "You missed the three hanging back."

"We can't stay bunched up here," Stalker said. "Our best bet is to take the fight to them."

"I saw a path going around behind the hill." Tommy told him. "Snake Eyes and I can take that up behind them."

"You think you can do it?" Stalker asked. Tommy and Snake Eyes both shot him looks that said no problem. "Okay, we'll hold here until you're in position. Pop a green smoke grenade when you open up and we'll start attacking from below."

Tommy and Snake Eyes nodded and crawled to the path. Then they hit it running, staying hunched over to make it harder to see them.

Big Horn Canyon, Montana

Flint's finger tightened on the trigger of his Mossberg 590 shotgun as his eyes connected with the eyes of the man controlling the large black and brown dog. He held his fire as the man knelt and pulled the dog close.

"Easy," the man whispered stroking the dog. He licked his bushy black mustache as he stared at Flint. "Easy there fella. I work for Agent O'Hara. So lighten up on that trigger."

Flint eased back, but still held the gun in place. The man kept stroking the dog and it began backing off.

"Tell her that the families will be leaving on the ninth." The man whispered again as Flint and the dog calmed down. "They need to raid this place between then and the twelfth when they return. Something big is going down. We've been getting all kind of weapons in; including some high tech anti-air missiles."

"Everything all right Sarge," the dog handler's partner called from below.

"Yeah, just a squirrel." The man called back, then continued whispering to Flint. "O'Hara knows how to signal me. Tell her I can cut the power for ninety seconds before the backups kick on."

The man stood up and pulled the dog back. "C'mon Junkyard, let's go get some chow."

Paktika Province, Afghanistan

Snake Eyes and Tommy ran along the path as it wound up the hill. They both stopped suddenly as three men popped their heads over the hill. The two took cover on either side of the path as the men came down it, all holding AK-47 assault rifles. As they passed Tommy grabbed the one in back and slit his throat as Snake Eyes covered the mouth of the middle one and did the same. Then they pulled the two dead men back under cover.

The lead man looked back and saw he was alone and raised his gun. Tommy and Snake Eyes came at him from both sides. Snake grabbed the gun, making sure to block the trigger, as Tommy made quick work of him with a knife. They hid the body with the others and started back up the hill.

They crawled over the top and took cover on a rock strewn overhang. Looking down they saw eleven Taliban insurgents spread out and working their way towards Stalker's position.

"Looks like we took care of the three hanging back," Tommy whispered.

Snake Eyes nodded and then tilted his head toward a boulder a little ways down the hill. "I'll set up there."

"Gotcha, I'll stay here since I have the scope." Tommy replied, removing the dust cover on the ACOG scope mounted to his M4 carbine. "We'll pick off the guys in front to turn the others around."

"Then I'll pop the smoke so the others can hit them from behind." Snake Eyes finished. He worked his way to the boulder and lay down flat, lowering the bipod on his M249. He sighted in on the lead man and waited for Tommy to start things.

He saw one of the insurgents go down and opened up, firing in quick bursts. Between the two of them five insurgents went down and the other six turned and took cover. Snake tossed a green smoke grenade down away from the firefight and continued firing short bursts.

Stalker, Sapperstein, Escobar and Collins ran up the hill, taking the remaining men with close shots. Snake Eyes and Tommy worked down to the others as Escobar finally made radio contact with headquarters. Then Sapperstein and Snake Eyes set up for guard duty as the others went to recover the bodies of their fellow Rangers. Once the bodies were brought up, the six men set up guard positions and waited for the Blackhawk helicopter.

Billings, Montana August 6, 2011

Flint made it back to the FBI offices around two in the morning, and found Agent O'Hara waiting for him. She ushered him into her office and shut the doors.

"What did you find," she asked as she handed him a cup of coffee.

"I need to get in touch with my CO." Flint said as he sipped at the hot liquid. "I found what he wanted. And your man on the inside had a message for you. He said that the families will be gone from the ninth to the twelfth. And that the group was planning something big. He also said that he could kill the power for a minute and a half when you need it."

"That was Specialist Stanley Perlmutter." O'Hara told him. "Officially he's listed as AWOL, unofficially he's on loan from Army Intelligence."

"According to him they've had a large weapons build up, including anti-air missiles."

She perked up at the mention of this. "I can get authority to raid the place by the eighth. Though my assault team here is pretty inexperienced."

"If you'd like, I can have my commander send a few men to back us up."

"Us?"

"You don't think I'm the type of guy to walk away and leave the job unfinished?"

"We'd gladly take any assistance you can offer," She said; not letting herself flirt with him. "My line here is secure, if you want to contact your CO."


	11. Chapter 11

**G.I. JOE: America's Special Missions Force** Chapter 10

Billings, Montana August 10, 2011

"Agent O'Hara, I'm General Hawk." Hawk said as he shook hands. "This is Captain Stalker and Sergeant Duke."

"Interesting names, General" FBI Agent Shana O'Hara said as she welcomed them into her office.

"Sorry, but we have to keep our identities to ourselves." Hawk told her. "You are aware that military operations on U.S. soil are illegal. You would be better off not even mentioning us in your reports. The information would never leave your director's office anyway."

"I was already briefed on that, Sir." O'Hara said. "You want to tell me your interest in First Strike?"

"We found they are being funded by a terrorist organization. That is why we sent Flint here," Hawk told her as he nodded toward the Warrant Officer. He placed some photos on her desk. "This is what he found. Are you familiar with Major Sebastian Bludd?"

"Mercenary and terrorist. He's on Interpols wanted list." O'Hara answered as she looked through the photos. "They have M16's?"

"M16A2's to be precise," Flint said. "Along with some M203's and M60E3's."

"Bludd was seen delivering weapons and overseeing their training." Hawk told her as she set the pictures down.

"Flint says you have a man inside," Stalker said. "If he can kill the lights, a night assault would be the best bet."

"He can give us ninety seconds." O'Hara told him. "My team doesn't have enough experience for a prolonged fight."

"How many do you have available?" Duke asked her.

"Nine total, armed with MP-10's and shotguns."

"The best bet would be to take out the guards and then have the lights killed," Stalker said. "You have tear gas?"

"Yes, along with two M79 launchers."

"Okay we hit the guards and set up here and here," Stalker pointed to two locations on the map of the compound. "We'll have your man kill the power and go through the fence. We hit the the two barracks first; tear gas and flash bangs should keep them down."

"The problem will be this guard here." Flint said pointing to one guard tower. "It will be difficult to climb that tower without being seen. The only real option is shooting; and that will alert the compound."

"I can take that one," O'Hara said. "I have a high powered crossbow. That will keep the noise down."

"Sounds like a plan." Stalker said. "Duke will take the other guard and Flint and I will deal with the roving patrol. We'll split your team into two teams of four with one left as an overwatch. Duke and Agent O'Hara will meet up with the west team and hit this building. Flint and I will take the east team into the other."

"I'll join the overwatch," Hawk said. "I think it's best to have an extra set of eyes."

"Makes sense," Stalker nodded.

"We'll need four men to guard the prisoners when we go after Wingfield and Carruthers." Flint said, pointing to the command building that the Wingfields and Carruthers lived in. "This part will be tricky, since they will be alerted by then."

"I'd prefer as few of your men as possible be involved in this stage, Agent O'Hara." Stalker told her. "They will be well armed and dug in. It could turn into a blood bath."

"The best bet is to get someone inside with them," Duke said. "Are we sure Snake Eyes is unavailable?"

"He's still in Europe until the middle of the month," Hawk said. "What about this tunnel system?"

"We think it only connects the command building, the armory and the barracks." O'Hara said as she pulled another map out. "We estimated by the amount of dirt that was hauled out. It wasn't enough for an escape tunnel. Unless it goes just out side the fence."

"We'll split off four men to guard the prisoners and two others to keep watch from the guard towers." Stalker told them. "If we can find the tunnel entrance maybe we can have someone slip inside. Otherwise we'll provide a distraction for Duke to get on top of the building."

"Seems pretty solid," Hawk said. "Lets go over everything and tighten it up some."

First Strike Compound, Bighorn Canyon, Montana August 12, 2011

It was just after one in the morning and the night was still. Hawk and and FBI agent named Hardy were set up where Flint had camped. The Agent was looking through a thermal scope on a FN SPR .300 sniper rifle. Hawk lay next to him, keeping watch through night vision binoculars.

"Guards have changed." Hawk said through the LASH headset. "Roving patrol has started."

Stalker and Flint took position in a small ditch as they waited. Duke edged his way close to his assigned guard tower. This one was only six feet off ground and used to secure one corner of the fence. Agent Shana O'Hara was at the other, a twelve foot high tower just inside the fence. She knelt close to the fence holding a high powered crossbow. Duke climbed the fence and hugged the tower close, staying just out of sight.

"Duke," Hawk said over the radio. Duke tapped the top of the tower just hard enough for the guard to hear. The guard came over and leaned over the tower. Duke Grabbed the guards head and thrust a knife into his throat. He climbed into the tower and lowered the body to the floor.

"Red" Hawk said after Duke took down his man. O'Hara switched on the night vision goggles attached to her black helmet. She aimed at the guard who had set his rifle down to light a cigarette. The bolt caught him squarely in the chest and he let out a muffled grunt before collapsing to the floor.

"Stalker," Flint and Stalker heard over their sets. The two man roving patrol walked by their spot. They were up in an instant, closing on the two men. Two arms reached out, hands covering the mouths of the patrol. Knives flashed quickly, and then the two men were being dragged away.

"Go," Hawk said and twelve people rushed to their assigned spots. O'Hara and the eight FBI agents were dressed in black overalls, body armor and helmets. They carried MP-10 10mm submachine guns and had Glock 22 pistols in holsters; two of the men also had M79 40 mm grenade launchers. Flint and Stalker met their four agents at the fence, dressed in black cargo pants and commando sweaters with body armor. Stalker carried a M4A1 5.56 carbine and Flint a Mossberg 590 shotgun. Duke crossed the inside of the camp and met O'Hara and her four agents. He was dressed like Stalker and Flint, but had a black knit cap covering his blond hair and carried a MP-10.

"Remember," Hawk said over the LASH radio. "Ten men are in the two barracks. Three are in the command center. Power goes down in six minutes."

At 1:30 the power went down and the fence was cut, allowing twelve people to rush through. Everyone was now wearing a respirator and the two groups set up outside the two barracks. Both groups had a M79 and tear gas was launched through windows. Another barrage was launched and then the doors were kicked in and M80 stun grenades tossed in. Duke, O'Hara, Stalker and Flint lead the way in.

"Federal Agents!" Both groups yelled. "Everyone down!"

Several men reached for weapons and were quickly cut down. The others who weren't dazed quickly dropped to the floor. The agents quickly pushed the others down and everyone's hands were secured with zip cuffs as the lights came up. Weapons were secured away from the prisoners and everyone searched as Stalker, Flint and Duke searched for a tunnel entrance. The prisoners were herded into one building and Scarlet dispatched four Agents to guard the seven men. Two other agents were sent to the guard post and two more to guard the armory.

"Friendly," was called from the doorway before Stanley Perlmutter and Junkyard the rottweiler came in. O'Hara walked up to him.

"What's the sit?" She asked.

"The Wingfields and Carruthers are still in the command building." Perlmutter said. "They have it rigged for a last stand and are probably set up at the back wall. Last time I was in there they had a M60 and several M16s available."

"Know anything about the tunnels?" Duke asked.

"They can only be accessed from the command building. Every entrance is locked from the inside except there."

"Can you show us the exits?" Stalker asked as he joined them. "We can at least barricade them so they can't be used for a getaway."

"No problem. It shouldn't be too difficult since they open outwards."

At 1:50 Stalker, Duke, Flint, O'Hara, Perlmutter and an additional agent were spread out around the wood building with a tin roof. Heavy wooden shutters with firing ports had been closed over the windows and the door was a heavy wooden door.

"This is the FBI," Shana O'Hara called through a megaphone. "Put down your weapons and come out, hands raised."

"That'll work," Duke whispered.

"I have to try," O'Hara scowled at him.

"We're going to have to go in through the door." Stalker said over the radio. "That place is built for a siege."

"C4 on the hinges?" Flint asked.

"Negative?" Perlmutter said. "The door has a heavy bar securing it."

"Blow out the shutter and throw in tear gas?" Flint asked after thinking a moment.

"Might work," Stalker said. "How are they set on night vision?"

"Scopes only; as far as I know." Perlmutter told him. "Off the shelf stuff."

"Duke, Flint," Stalker said. "Come in low from the sides and wire the shutters."

They circled around around to each side of the building and dropped to ground, slowly crawling to the front windows as O'Hara continued trying to talk to the people inside. Flint and Duke, each with fuse wire tied to their web gear and being unspooled by Stalker and Perlmutter, reached at the same time and leaned against the wall. They opened the satchels each carried and pulled out blocks of plastic explosive and began estimating how much to use. Duke slowly rose to his knees, waiting for any reaction from inside. He waved Flint up, and was happy not to hear any gunfire as the warrant officer reached his knees.

The two men quickly set the explosive and untied the fuse from their belts, attaching it to the C4. They quickly crawled back to the others, arriving at the same time as the two agents with the grenade launchers.

"This is your last chance," O'Hara said over the megaphone. Duke and Flint had attached the fuses to detonators and waited for her order. "This doesn't have to end in bloodshed. Come out unarmed and with your hands where we can see them."

After several moments of silence she signaled the two men. They hit the detonators at the same time and the heavy shutters blew apart. Everyone ducked in anticipation of gunfire from the building. After no response she signaled the two agents and they aimed their M79 grenade launchers at what was left of the windows. They launched 40mm teargas projectiles through the holes and quickly reloaded and fired again. The others aimed at the door, waiting for someone to come rushing out.

They waited as the gas dissipated , surprised that no one left the building. Stalker signaled for the others to cover the building and slowly crept to a window. He raised a mirror up and peaked inside. With a frown he inched up and took a look, exposing his head to everyone inside, before standing up.

"All three are down," he said over the radio and waved everyone over. "Let's see how we can get this door open."

Washington, D.C. FBI Headquarters August 15, 2011

"After entering we found all three subjects dead. Wingfield had killed his wife and Carruthers before turning the gun on himself." The thin man in the expensive suit read from the report in front of him before raising his head. "Are you sure this is how it happened Agent O'Hara? Or were these more unexplained deaths; like what happened to the guards?"

"Yes I'm certain that is what happened, Director Erickson." Agent Shana O'Hara said firmly, not flinching from the disappointed stares she was receiving from the three men in front of her. "The photos show how we found them."

"And the reason you acted so quickly without getting proper authorization and backup?"

"I had authorization," she countered, nodding toward the distinguished looking man to Erickson's left. "Director Hardy gave it to me, and sent additional support."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Agent O'Hara." Director Hardy said frowning. "My office never received any notice of your raid. If I had, I wouldn't have given approval. I'm rather disappointed, Agent. You're actions have left ten people dead and possibly hurt the careers of several good agents. And for what? The only charge we could given them was possession of automatic weapons and a few minor drug counts."

"What about the anti-aircraft missiles and plans for a raid on LAX?" She asked realizing that she was being set up.

"Once again I'm afraid you're mistaken. None of that stuff was found on site. You made a mistake Agent, one that you are going to be held responsible for."

"Sir everything, including my authorization is in the report I handed you," She said nodding toward the file.

"There is nothing here to back you up, Agent." The graying black man who had remained silent finally spoke. "I'm in agreement with my colleagues, you overreached your authority and caused the death of ten civilians. This will go under review, until then you are suspended. You will probably face charges over this Agent O'Hara."

"Sir, I'm telling the truth..."

"That's enough," Director Erickson said. "Director Blanton is correct. Leave your weapon and badge with the duty officer. You are not to leave the city until after you've been contacted. I would also suggest finding a good defense counselor."

"Sir." She said stiffly, barely keeping her anger in check.

"You are dismissed Agent O'Hara. We will not take you into custody at this time; though I'm certain you will face arrest. You are not to talk to the media. Or have contact with any agents formerly under you. Am I clear?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good, you will be contacted tomorrow as to when the review will be held. That is all."

Shana O'Hara seethed as she left the building. Like any other office, gossip spread quickly and she had become the subject of glances and whispering. It was all she could do to turn in her belongings and sign out without hitting someone. Which was her first plan after getting to her hotel, go to the gym and take her frustration out on the heavy bag.

The only break she had today was that a cab had pulled up when she left, and actually waited when she hailed it. She climbed inside and quickly growled the name of the hotel, before sitting back to silently fume.

"Rough day?" The cabby asked. She ignored him, not feeling like talking to anyone. O'Hara fumed a minute longer before realizing the voice was familiar. She glanced up and saw pale blue eyes looking back through the rear view mirror.

"Sergeant Duke," she said. "Is this your day job or did you come to get a better look at the career you and your General destroyed?"

"Neither." He smiled back at her, impressed by the glare she was giving him. "Hawk wanted me to thank you for your help. He also wanted you to know that you won't face charges. Apparently your Director Hardy is tying to cover his own tail and throwing you to the wolves. By tomorrow morning he will announce you did get confirmation from his office. Just not from he personally."

"Your General Hawk couldn't have showed up to defend me?" She asked, calming slightly.

"That wouldn't be a good idea." Duke said as he turned up a side street. "It's better if there's no evidence of our involvement. Just know that he has your back."

"And is concerned enough to send CMH winner Conrad Hauser as my personal taxi?" She asked, smiling at the shocked look on his face. "Something wrong Sergeant Hauser?"

"How did you find out who I was?"

"It was pretty simple really. You won the medal of honor by saving my father's life. I have an excellent memory and there are several photographs of you around the house."

"Patrick O'Hara is your dad?" He asked. "He was my squad leader when I was with the 82cd Airborne."

"That's him. He was one of the men who was pinned down when you took out that machine gun nest."

"How is he?"

"He lost a leg and had to retire. Now he's running the family dojo."

"He did mention a family business. Your two brothers are helping?"

"Three, and yes they're all instructors."

"I would tell you to say hello for me, but I'm afraid we're not supposed to have met."

"I get the hint, Sergeant. Don't worry, I have top secret clearance."

"We are aware of that Lieutenant." A voice spoke from the speakers.

"General Hawk?"

"Yes. Sorry about that meeting. I expected Hardy to have a little more backbone."

"The Sergeant informed me you handled it."

"The least I could do after all your help."

"This is kind of a roundabout way of telling me though."

"True, but that's not why we're having this conversation."

"Oh?"

"I have an offer for you, Lieutenant..."


End file.
